No Tomorrow
by Razer Athane
Summary: What sense is there in having two rivals fight against one another, when they are both for the same cause? -AU Fic-
1. I

**Author's Note: **Hey guys! I've started up a new multi-chap fic, hooray! Although, I've started it WAY earlier than planned, lol :\ I was actually extremely worried that someone else would take my idea before I had the chance to post it, so I've decided to do it now, and because I had a massive writing burst for it. It couldn't be ignored.

_No Tomorrow _is an idea that randomly sprung up in my head when my Dad sent me a text message about Japanese history. And that sentence (which I'll tell you of later, but not now) sprung this idea in my head like that –snaps fingers- Then I just started linking it up with other ideas I had floating around for a future Tekken fic, and so on and so forth. I'll try and feature every Tekken character that I can here, though I'm having some trouble fitting some chfaracters in still. This fic will be good practice for a future 'Soul Calibur' multi-chap fic of mine as well, so yeah. Any practice is good practice, hehe.

This fic will not be updated very often, though, until I have completed _With Me _and the Prequel to that series (the title will not be announced yet. You lot thought you could sneak it out of me, hm? Too bad, hahaha). Those two fics are my main priority. However, once they are done and completely posted, I will put all of my energy into this one. I promise. Expect an update for this fic every month or two, as opposed to every three to four days with the other fics.

Now without further ado, here is the AU-fic, _No Tomorrow._

One last thing – I DON'T OWN TEKKEN. I refuse to put further disclaimers in, it ruins the pace of the fics. Enjoy!

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**NO TOMORROW**

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_**I.**_

The boat gently moves as the water dictates. They never push hard enough to topple it over, yet not soft enough so that is at a stand still. The wind is just as soft, lightly pushing the white masts, though as a whole, the ship doesn't move, for it is weighted down. Both natural forces are like a soft rocking, almost like a Mother's cradling arms, putting her baby to sleep. Almost.

He saunters on the top deck of the ship, past the few that dared to stand by his side. The young boy, not quite yet a man, longingly looks towards the land that is along side his precious vessel. It's been a fair while since he and his crew decided to dock on the shores of their homeland for such a fair period of time. Still, soon enough, they would be back to their old tricks on the open seas.

His trusty dao, gold in its design, is safely secured in his scabbard by his left hip. He trusts it as though it were a person, as if it were another member of his crew. It has saved his life limitless times, and in turn, has swallowed the souls of others. In recollection of such events, he places his right hand over the end and pats it fondly, before turning to the other men on board.

He speaks to them, though his gaze eventually drifts off to the pale pink sky behind them. Night is coming very soon, and the harsh cold will again snap at their bodies, "We've got everything we need again. Food, drink, beer, clothing, and other useful utensils. We'll leave at dawn. For now, do as you wish, but meet back here by sunrise. Understood?"

"Yes sir," They say in unison, sitting up taller.

"Dismissed," The youth growls, his gaze still transfixing on the sky. He sees the sun dipping under the horizon, and it reminds him of so many small things that he dares not allow to surface. The revelation of a man's deepest, darkest and most tender pain, and memories, would lead to his early, untimely and gruesome annihilation. Such ideas should be locked in a treasure chest, and sunk deep inside the soul, where only that man could unlock them with his precious key once again.

His comrades scatter, some dispersing back under the deck, others trekking to the land for their own personal reasons. He often wonders, yet refuses to pry. To pry into one's life is to in turn, eventually have your own peered into… and he doesn't want that. There are many things he prefers to keep to himself. Many things he repudiates to share, for different reasons each time.

It is for these reasons that he runs away, letting the sea take him to wherever it may.

Pirate.

"Captain?"

Captain. He doesn't look like one, but he is. He still acts and dresses like his crew mates, and he is young.

"What is it?" He snaps, finally turning away from the sinking sun.

"What are ya gonna do tonight?" The much older man asks, his breath forever stained by alcohol.

"I don't know."

He hates the pirate slangs. That's why he never uses it.

"Yar, get off yer ship for tonight. Me an' the boys'll look after it for ya. Ya deserve the rest."

The twenty-two-year-old hesitates. It took an awful lot to get this ship at such a young age, and the idea of losing it somehow to these idiots did not seem all that appealing to him. He lightly shrugs his shoulders, turns away from his fellow pirate, hands behind his back, and nods slightly, "Alright. See you in the morning, Tak."

The man lazily waves good bye to his Captain, thereafter retreating to the cabins below, "Good bye, Hwoarang."

Hwoarang's eyebrows furrow. He does not like it when they call him by his name. He prefers it when they address him as his nickname – The Blood Talon. Even 'Captain' is fine. But not his name. Anything but his name. One of the very few things he's held onto from his past life on the land – something he hopes to one day forget.

Shaking his head in the hopes of rattling those thoughts away, he shrugs it off and leaves his ship, wondering where this evening will take him. He assumes he will find himself in the arms of a nameless woman, satisfying whatever primal urges may or may not rise within him tonight. Or maybe he will be at another bar, slamming down mug after mug after mug in a different sea of people.

His brown boots lightly touch the ground, never leaving a solid footprint of where he had once been. As he walks, he looks around the coastal town, walking freely among the people as though he is one of them too. It's unusual how one moment, you are like an ordinary citizen, and yet in another instant you gladly take from these people as much as you gave them originally.

He spots two of his crew mates heading into the pub, laughing as though there would be no tomorrow. They do not notice him in the sea of people, and for that simple fact, he is thankful. He does not want to be around them tonight, because for the next however long, he will be with them all the time. He needs a break, and he needs it now.

The youth continues walking down the barely defined pathways, his time withering away slowly like a dying rose. His amber eyes are solely focused on the ground, watching how with every swaggering step, the tattered bottom of his dark blue pants sway along as well. Sometimes he wished he knew how to sew. There were quite a few times where he had tripped over because of the pants in question.

As he made a mental note to steal new pants on his next endeavour, Hwoarang jumps in slight surprise as he feels the first few droplets of cold rain caress his bare arms. Damn this sleeveless dark red shirt. He stops walking and looks up. When did those clouds get there? They assembled quite quickly… It was a blend of grey and black, like a painting dabbed together that sent a lot of the individuals around him going for shelter.

_It's just rain. It's not going to kill anyone._

Brushing a few stray strands of his red hair away from his eyes, he continues on his way, pointlessly wandering with no intent to go or do anything as of yet. With the few derivative glances that were cast his way because of his beloved dao, or at the black tattoo of a Korean dragon encircling his left upper arm, he was pretty sure that wherever he ends up tonight (that was not his ship), he would be cast away. He doesn't care anyway.

It's when he hears screams does the Korean become confused. His eyebrows furrow dangerously as he hears more of it. Men, women and children – their screams are a united melody, strung of the highest notes as well as the lowest, and everything in between. They seem far off, but the crescendo in volume indicates to him that the reason for the village's retreat is not because of the rain.

A man's voice booms over the noise that the commotion is summoning, followed by the roars of more men, and the thunderous sound of hooves. Slashing noises soon join, as well as gurgled cries, and numerous and various thuds. Combined, these noises only pointed to one thing, and its very concept makes the young man bite his lip, push his dark blue bandana up a little, adjust his brown gloves and unsheathe his golden dao.

The town of Busan is under attack.

There comes a time in everyone's life where that inflaming sense of patriotism invades the body, like a disease. The need to protect your people, the desire to keep them alive, is a strong emotion, and is a difficult one to ignore in instances such as this. It occurs in everyone – even those who terrorise the land in their own special ways.

Hwoarang tightens his grip on his dao and runs toward the source of the problem, weaving through the stream of terrified villagers. He sees some men run before him and along side him, with the aim of protecting the people they cared about. As for he himself, he does not really know. He just has this gut feeling that it was not a fellow Korean town waging war. He is so sure. So, so sure…

He finds himself stopping in the middle of the two-way stream, turning to look to his right.

"What are you doing?!" A woman cries, tugging on the arm of a nearby man. Her other arm is holding a young child, who is screaming in fear, "Don't go, come with us! Run away with us! They will certainly kill you! What will I do then?! They are so much stronger than us!"

"There's no where to run," The man answers sadly, "We're trapped. If I don't go and at least try, then we will all be doomed."

A final kiss on the forehead of the child, and the man is gone. The child's screams increase in volume, as do the woman's sobs. She reaches out her free hand, her thin fingers clawing at nothing, as though to try and summon him back to her side. Her voice is an incoherent mess, "Please! Please stay here! Please come back! Don't do this to me! Don't do this to _us!_ _Come back!_"

The twenty-two-year-old's face remains blank as he continues running onward, still trying to find the enemy. The sounds of battle draw closer and closer, as he leaves the coastal area further and further behind. Soon enough, he sees the entrance to Busan, and in anger, narrows his eyes into tiny slits. His suspicions are confirmed.

The Japanese.

"Spare no man!" A leader growls, pointing his katana at the masses of people before him.

Fresh wounds are drawn in Hwoarang's memories, like the slices that were occurring to his fellow Koreans. With a small smile, he closes his eyes and lifts his dao, lightly pressing its flat side to his forehead, as though honouring the memory he relived for a few seconds earlier. The moment passes, and he charges, eyes open, yelling in fury at the foreign invaders, his weapon poised high in the air proudly.

He dodges a foot soldier's vertical slice, and successfully counters with a horizontal one. The razor-sharp edge of the dao slices through the light armour and the clothing, drawing blood immediately. The soldier staggers back and growls, one hand over the wound, the other raising his short sword in the air. The twenty-two-year-old sees the opportunity to strike again, and he does so, drawing another wound at his throat. This time, it is fatal, and the man collapses to the ground in a motionless heap.

There is a spine-tingling feeling as he spins around and ducks under another slice. Now facing his foe, the Blood Talon thrusts his dao into the chest of the soldier, piercing his heart instantly. He wonders for a moment why these soldiers are so under armoured. These are nothing of the Japanese soldiers that he had heard about from various towns, let alone the one he –

He hurriedly places his foot on the corpse and pushes it off the sword. Perfectly aimed arrows soar over his head, gliding through the air as though there is no restriction. He bites his lip, sensing another soldier or two coming up behind him, _C'mon, get outta there! Why'd you have to get stuck?!_

The youth pulls the dao free of the man's ribcage just in time, and stumbles back, coincidentally missing the strikes that were coming his way. With a sweeping kick, he knocks both men over, sending their own weapons flying to unreachable places. Hwoarang smirks sardonically, ending their lives as quickly as he can before he is snuck up upon once more.

When he looks back up, he sees his fellow men fall. Amongst those that fell to their deaths due to a well placed horizontal katana slice was the man he had seen earlier, bidding good bye to his wife and child. And now, the woman had no one to protect her or the bundle of youth she had held in her arms; and the child didn't have a Father to look up to.

The last thing causes the pirate's teeth to press closer and closer together, until he can feel them grinding over the top of one another. The black stallion speeds by, the killer of the man and those others sturdy atop his steed. The man who had brought about their deaths was a samurai. A leader (though clearly not the one who had spoken earlier) amongst these troops, one of Japan's elite soldiers.

Growling, he jumps on the horse before it gets out of his sight. The samurai is taken back, surprised, and looks out of the corner of his eyes to see the angry Korean. The horse is also furious at the intruder, crying in protest, and stops running, rearing back in an attempt to throw off he who decided to hop on for the ride.

The samurai moves to slash the youth off, only aiming to harm, not to hurt. He does not want to be the causes of more death. Hwoarang grabs the hand before it comes down, and twists it forcefully at the wrist. He sees past the helmet, seeing the man's dark brown eyes close in pain, and his mouth be pressed in a firm line. He chuckles.

The horse bucks once more, sending both riders onto the hard ground below them. The Japanese fighter groans in pain and sits up, holding his head, which he just realises is free of a helmet. The impact must have thrown it off somewhere, though he felt too dizzy to search for it as of now. He sits up, hissing in pain as the world seemingly spins around him.

Once the world stops spinning, he sees his opponent rising to his feet, albeit now a little muddy, grabbing his golden dao. He does likewise, reaching for his katana quickly, and falls into stance, both hands firmly placed on the hilt of his precious weapon. He refuses to die here today. His time is not now. No, not now.

Hwoarang too slips into his stance, his right hand firmly clasped around the dao. His left swiftly pushes his bandana back up, and brushes the few strands that dared to defy the small cloth strip out of the way of his eyes. He stands perfectly still, nothing moving, not even the silver necklace around his neck. The rain is now accompanied by thunder, dictating the chaos below its origins, making everything that much harder and that much worse.

The samurai charges first, moving forward to deliver a diagonal strike, one he hoped would clip the Korean's right shoulder. The attack misses, and he feels a sharp kick ensue to the side of his head. The clash of metal upon armour is soon heard, and he smiles slightly, glad that this ridiculous and heavy armour was bestowed upon his frame.

He sees in his foes amber eyes that brief flicker of doubt.

This was the wrong fight to choose.

He bounds forward again, careful that he does not slip on the mud below, guiding his katana in many fluid motions. Some hit the mark, others don't, but he continues on, the basic instinct of survival surging through his veins. The Japanese man dodges another kick that came his way, but is struck across the forehead with a horizontal strike. He winces and stumbles back, putting a freehand there, feeling the warm blood trickle from the gash.

He takes this break to study his opponent. He is around the same age as him, around the same height, a little smaller in build… yet just as skilled. The resolve to fight for his country burns in his eyes strongly, like an unwavering flame – one he is trying to put out unhappily. His red hair is a far cry from his own black hair, and the style is different, though not as distinguishable as his own. A standard hairstyle with an unusual colour. A standard colour with an unusual hairstyle. Very different.

Odd how he thinks about such things. It is a blessing and a curse. In this instant, a curse, for he is struck again. This time, the dao has successfully found a gap in the armour, and pierces his left shoulder. It is sticking out from between his shoulder armour and his main armour.

He scolds himself for observing when forcefully, his katana is thrown out of his hand by his Korean adversary. With an angry growl, he grabs the opponent's hand with his left one, the dao with his right hand, and pulls it from himself painfully, thereafter using all of his own force to wrench the weapon from his foe's hand. He throws it to the ground, well away from where he can reach it.

"You think that's gonna stop me?" The Korean snarls angrily.

"I would certainly hope not," He drawls.

In response to that, Hwoarang cries out and lashes in attack with a foot, hoping to strike his head once more. It is parried, and he is, in return, forcefully punched in the stomach. The attack winds him, and he stumbles back, greedily gasping for air. Without warning, he is struck again, a short flurry of punches and kicks greeting him. He tries to block them, but can only block some.

A break in the chain is found, and he delivers a low kick, tripping the samurai over. Hurriedly taking advantage of the situation, he drops to the ground and takes out his trusty dagger, pinning the fighter to the ground with all of his weight, forcefully pressing the sharp edge to the man's throat. The Blood Talon sneers, pushing his knee against the man's elbow joint, and pressing the blade harder against the tender flesh, "How's it feel to be taken down by a pirate, samurai?"

"Professions mean nothing, though I am highly impressed by your skill."

A light chuckle emits from the being above him as the grip on the dagger tightens, ready to rip the flesh, "Likewise."

"Here! He's over here!"

The samurai turns his head to the left, seeing some of his fellow men coming to get him. In an instant, the pressure is relieved off his body and away from his throat. His Korean opponent is thrown to the ground in an instant, hissing in pain. He sits up in time to see a swift strike occur to the side of his head, and a disgruntled groan ensue. He had been knocked unconscious, and the surrounding men were about to kill him.

"Don't kill him!" The Japanese youth yells.

His soldiers turn to look at him curiously, as he runs his shaky fingers through his black hair, trying to move the messy bangs aside. He is now standing on his feet and walks over towards his foe, rolling him onto his back with his foot. The boy is clearly unconscious. It would be cruel to slaughter him now, when so many lives already had been taken unnecessarily. The Korean is looking up at him peacefully, red hair and mud sticking to his face, and here he notices a silver hooped earring at the top of his ear.

"My Prince, you are injured," A nearby infantryman states in a bewildered manner.

"It is nothing…" He replies uneasily. He hates it when they mention his lineage.

They are silent as the nobleman turns away from his opponent, searching for that golden dao that he had fought so valiantly with. He sees one of his soldiers picking it up and observing it. Judging by the look on the man's face, he is tempted to thieve it and claim it as his own. The sinister smirk expanding ever larger is the dead give away.

"Give me that sword," The Prince says firmly, his hand extended out.

The infantryman jumps and bows respectively, handing him the weapon. He takes it and observes it himself. It is of fine make, and it looks old. Very old and aged. It has seen many battles indeed. With a light smile, he locates the scabbard on the Korean's hip and slides it in, before taking a step back and bowing respectfully. He turns to those around him, "You are not to kill him. We have won the battle, so there is no more need for further bloodshed amongst innocent people who are only trying to protect those they care about."

The Shogun upon his white stallion arrives, stopping the beast before it can go any further. It takes a moment for him to realise that his second in command has been injured noticeably, and begins to stammer, "P-Prince Kazama!"

"Jin," He states peacefully.

"We must get you back to camp to treat you. Your Grandfather would be appalled to see you in such a state!"

He shrugs lightly, large, innocent brown eyes staring up at the Shogun. The twenty-two-year-old stumbles over to where his katana lies, and picks it up respectfully, sheathing it too. His youthful hands rest on the hilt as he waits for further orders from the Shogun in front of him, eyes now downcast at the pools of blood mixing into the muddy ground. He sees his horse being returned to him in the reflections.

"Go into town. Set up the trading ports," He growls gruffly, watching as the Prince is unwillingly assisted onto his steed. He smirks and turns away once the youth is settled, eyes now focused amongst his fellow kinsman before him, "Busan is ours."


	2. II

**Author's Note: **OMGWTFBBQ?! _Eleven _reviews for the very first chapter!? Thank you very, very much guys, I'm thrilled that you've taken to my idea! I enjoyed each and every one of your reviews, they made my day. And, **Thunderxtw,** you and your jokes XD Who knows. I might make a pimp pirate pop up. Then Hwoarang would _really _have to take a pimp step back! ;)

Now that we're on the second chapter, I feel it's necessary to tell you the message my Dad sent me that inspired this fic. He was reading a Japanese History book, and sent me a quote from it: "In 1615, a band of Christian Samurais led by Shogun Kazama…". So! _That _is why Jin's a samurai, lmao! It was just so mind boggling XD Teehee!

I noticed that in a review or two, that you guys mentioned 'cross over'. No no, this is **NOT **a cross-over fic with _Soul Calibur. _It's just heavily influenced by it. The characters that will appear will strictly be Tekken characters. No _Soul Calibur _characters will appear in this fic whatsoever. Though, it would be awesome. Maybe next time, yes? I will be doing a multi-chapter _Soul Calibur _fic in the future… So, uh, maybe that's where you guys got a little confused? Haha. Anyway! Enjoy the new chapter :)

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_**II.**_

The world is still spinning around him violently when the Blood Talon finally comes to, peeling his amber eyes back to half mast. A disgruntled groan escapes his throat as he sits up, a muddy hand to his throbbing head. He can taste blood inside his mouth, and looks down to see wounds all over his body. He is lost for a moment, confused as to why he is so damn injured, and why he is lying out in the middle of nowhere.

Soon enough though, everything comes back to him, like a harsh slap to the face. He remembers it all - the Japanese attack, his fellow kinsmen dying in the defence of the town, his intense battle with the samurai, right down to the last few moments of aforementioned fight where he is thrown off and knocked unconscious.

But… if they threw him off and knocked him out, why did they not kill him? He and the other Koreans in the vicinity are the enemy. They were the obstacles here. To successfully conquer Busan, they would have to be eliminated - no matter the cost. So why was he spared? Why was he still here, sitting amidst the blood and carnage with a headache and bile coming up his throat?

Hwoarang sighs, forcefully attempting to keep the awful taste down in his stomach. He carefully starts to stand, hands on the ground to help this act. The hilt of his dao gently taps against his wrist as he does, making him jump a little with surprise. His beloved weapon was still by his side, too. How strange that the Japanese Army let him keep it. Yet another unusual situation without an answer.

It's when he's standing up completely on aching legs does he find time to survey the situation around him. He already knows that the battle to protect Busan was lost, but he is truly disgusted at the damage and deaths that the invaders have caused. Limbs and organs litter the entrance to the town freely, in meaningless formations and patterns. A head here, an arm there, the lower half of another man's body a few feet away, and so on.

He growls angrily, the very sight of it sending the bile back up his throat. He swallows again, desperate to keep it down, and with furrowed eyebrows, marches back into the town. He shivers at the sudden gust of wind, and looks up to the sky as he moves, barely seeing the orange sun behind the cloak of grey clouds and black smoke.

_This was not a simple loss… This was a massacre, _He thinks grimly, adjusting his dark blue bandana. Once the action is done, he ignores the screaming aches and pains, and crosses his arms across his chest in a very vain attempt to keep warm. He breathes out firmly and bites his lip thereafter, going past raided homes, seeing glass littering the pathway in a carefree manner, amongst other items.

As he walks down the main path, he sees a few families huddling together in the alleyway corners. Their large, brown eyes bear up at him, silently asking him what went wrong on the battlefield. It is quite clear to them, judging by the various scrapes, bruises and cuts; that he had fought too. A pirate, a ruffian of the seas, helping their husbands, sons and fathers fight for the security of their humble little homes.

Further down the path, he sees infantrymen patrolling with wicked sneers, talking between one another privately. They occasionally cast deadly glares at the remaining men who were with their families, just _daring _them to come and attack, _daring _them to rebel against their new masters. Of course, when a dog rebels against is owner, it is punished.

Behind the original two infantrymen is one of the leaders, laughing with glee. He drags a dead Korean man up behind him by the hair, his corpse marking the dirt tracks with grooves and blood. The families hold their breaths in frustration, and shield the eyes of their children, preventing them from seeing their new future.

Act deaf, blind and dumb, and you will live.

Its when the body is dragged by Hwoarang does his stomach twist harder than previous. It is one of his fellow pirates, Tak, who he had only been speaking with the previous few hours before going their separate ways. From what he can see, his head is barely on his neck, and his other limbs have been hacked to bits. All the worthy items on his body, such as his weapons, jewellery and so on, has been salvaged, taken away and most probably given to other Japanese samurais.

Another realization arises, and he wonders strongly what happened to his fellow crewmates and his ship. He waits until the filthy invaders stroll by does he slink down towards the dock, keeping an eye out for the sturdy masts and white sails. As he moves, he squints harshly, trying to see the white amongst the black and grey. Panic swims in Hwoarang's stomach when he sees a sea of white, not the simple two masts that his baby wore with pride.

He is warily eyed by more infantrymen as he moves. He can hear them whispering about him, most probably wondering why he is allowed to move freely with a deadly weapon. Eyes the colour of wood stare after him as he continues to walk by, careful of where to tread, and knowing that to live is to keep his mouth shut.

He gets to the port and gasps in dismay, anger, and many other nameless emotions. His precious ship, his prized possession amongst his runaway life, lies in ruins in the shallow area. It appears that the ship had been salvaged of everything of worth, such as the essentials he and his crew mates had received prior to the Japanese attack. The sails and the black flag, once proud and strong, were now stripped and torn to shreds, floating about in the water, no longer with a purpose. As for the wooden aspects of the ship, they too floated about, splintered and swollen in the salty liquid.

Judging by the large, circular marks in some of the larger pieces, not to mention the shattered state of the ship, it appeared that it had been attacked by their navy. He tears his eyes from the sight and surveys the other docking bays, seeing stronger, larger, other ships house themselves in their newly captured town. The twenty-two-year-old growls angrily, clenching his fists together. How dare they!

Nearby, an infantryman speaks firmly, "Move along kid, there's nothing here to see."

"Nothing here to see?!" He screams in fury, his red hair flying as he looks over his shoulder, "You've destroyed my ship!"

He laughs, casually strolling up to the Korean, "The fools aboard this ship saw our vessels and decided to fight against us, trying to keep us away from this beautiful town. But alas, it was all in vain… One ship up against a trained navy… It was more like _sport _as opposed to self defence."

Hwoarang moves to draw his dao, but is stopped with a katana to his throat by a different, shorter infantryman. He peers to his right to see a few more having arrived somewhere in the last few moments. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was the two speaking about him. So, they had followed him here, and had most probably laughed at his shock.

He sneers gleefully, pacing back and forth in front of the angry native, "I dare repeat, _your _ship? That makes you a pirate then… A vagabond of the land, fleeing to the sea in the hopes of drifting away from the things that haunt him. Tell me, _Captain… _Did you find what you were looking for? Or are you still a lost child, screaming at the world?"

With a growl, the Blood Talon pushes the katana away from his throat with his gloved hand, and ducks below the three, separate horizontal strikes that come his way. He grabs his golden dao and uses his trusty footwork to trip over the single soldier to his left. Caught up in a spin, he manages to raise the dao and block the three weapons once more, which this time had been following a vertical path.

Pushing them back and avoiding a hack to his legs, the Korean bolts down the rest of the harbour, well aware of the Japanese men shouting for him to be restrained. Though they are a trained army, he is still much faster than them, and easily outruns his pursuers, heading for his salvation, his freedom, like a rabbit bolting to a carrot.

_Just leave. Drop your pirate roots and warn your fellow men in nearby towns of what bloodshed is coming their way._

Hwoarang runs, leaving yet another life behind.

* * *

His face is aged and wizened as he stares down at his servant. His ancient eyes bear weary frustration, and it is obvious to all those around him. Though, those who actually know him, those who don't worship him senselessly in fear; are well aware that he is actually quite content and pleased with what is going on elsewhere. _Very _pleased indeed.

Lee Chaolan looks up at the Emperor with a light, polite smile. He bows low, his silver hair following the movement, before standing upright once more. He clears his throat and takes a deep breath in before speaking, "My Emperor, word has just reached of the start of the Korean Invasion a few days back. The taking of Busan was successful. Operating trading ports between Japan and Korea have commenced. The peninsula will be ours in no time, and then we can continue our take over into China and the rest of Asia… followed by Europe, and the rest of the world."

The Emperor's infectious guffaws rings through the cavernous halls of the Palace. They bounce from one wall to another, never ending until the source itself completely ceases. He smirks, his teeth showing, like a beast baring its fangs, "Excellent! Those foolish Koreans… They think that they can last against us! Well, we will show them the true might of the Mishima Dynasty… Won't we, my servant?"

"Yes, my Emperor," Lee says in full support, before adding, "of course. But… there were some complications during the take over. In battle, your grandson, the heir to the throne, was injured. Jin is alive and well, however, so do not stress. He is still sore from the battle against the pirate who had subdued him to the ground in one-on-one combat."

His smile fades away immediately, and a scowl replaces his expression. His hand clenches on the decorative arm rest, "Stupid boy… Have all those years training gone to waste?! To be taken down by a _pirate, _of all people… That is not only insulting to _his_ honour, but _mine_ as well! I will not have a failure running my country once I die! All my hard work will crumble under his youthful fingers… My plans, my successes, _the world _that _I _continue to expand will turn to dust… He is only _half _the man that Kazuya was. Don't you agree, Chaolan?"

Once again, the servant nods stiffly, "Yes, Emperor Heihachi. Jin is indeed only half the man that Kazuya was. He will never match up to his father."

Heihachi grins grimly in recollection of his son, who he had shaped in every aspect, to the core. From the first lesson in managing their Empire, to the last training match… He hates to admit it, but he misses Kazuya a little, and wonders from time to time how and why he disappeared in a simple mission twenty-two years ago. It doesn't seem like a long period of time when ruling a country, though the days slid by like droplets falling from leaves.

There was a rebellion in Okinawa. Something simple. Something Kazuya had indeed successfully managed many times before. But unlike those other times, where his son came home to he and his wife… they never saw their only child again. Some say that he had died on the battlefield, but had been so badly decapitated that they could not locate his body. Others say he drowned. Generally though, most of the people agreed that he had simply disappeared.

"My Emperor?"

The seventy-six-year-old man snaps out of his day dreaming and harshly glares at Lee, "Yes?"

"Are you well?"

He sits up in the chair and crosses one leg over the other, waving his hand dismissingly, "I'm fine, I'm fine. You can go now, Chaolan."

Lee bows respectively once more and turns on his heel, heading for the exit. He slides out the double doors, like a stealthy cat, and closes them gently behind him, giving some noise to the otherwise dead silent chamber. Like the laughter before hand, the sound bounces between the walls.

The Emperor presses his fingers against his temples, and rubs them softly, sighing. Just thinking about Kazuya gets him tired, not to mention other royal duties. If only to satisfy his turbulent curiosity, Heihachi just wished that he knew what had happened to his only son. Sure, the bloodline did not end here, for his son had a child, by whatever means, but Jin was a far cry from the man Kazuya had been once upon a time… Long, long ago.

He hears the doorknob turn again, its creak alerting him. His head snaps up, and through his aged brown eyes, he watches as it opens enough for his wife to enter. A long, light pink, flowery kimono carefully drags along the ground as she enters. Her greying hair is done up in a bun, and upon her maturing face is a light, sympathetic smile, spruced up with light make-up.

"Kazume," Heihachi remarks a tad fondly, a tad bitterly.

She acknowledges his remark with a light bow, and continues to walk towards him. Her voice is full of insight, more so than her long-time husband, "You were thinking about him again, weren't you? I can tell that your mind has wondered. Do not lie to me Heihachi, I know you are thinking about doing so. I know you like the back of my withering hand."

"Nonsense!" he bellows, doing the very thing that his wife asked him not to, "Why think about things that have been done? The past is the past. _Tomorrow _is the way to go. I assume Chaolan has informed you of the news, yes? Or perhaps Jin's servant, Asuka? Or one of the others in this vast Palace?"

Kazume painfully forces a smile to her face, standing before him, "One of the lesser servants has already informed me of the victory in Korea."

His booming laugh erupts again. He stands up and strays away from his throne, hands now behind his back. He continues to drone on, speaking firmly and gleefully, "And what a victory it was! The first part of my plan is well under way… Soon enough, the rest of Korea will fall. Soon after, the rest of Asia will fall. After that, Europe. Then? The _world _will be _mine._

"Somewhere, somewhere in this vast Earth… I will find it. Somewhere beneath the ground, in some place, I will find the key to my world domination… I will take it, and I will control it in my very hands, order it with my very breath, and direct it with such precision that every human will have no choice but to throw themselves onto their hands and knees, and _worship _me for the God that I am."

Kazume simply nods and smiles, listening to his chaotic ramblings about a controllable, all-powerful beast locked away in a far off land. This is all he has been carrying on about for the last few years, and it upsets her. The man she once loved and knew was long gone beneath that sadistic shell that was so tightly strung together, that despite her best efforts, she could not shatter through it.

As he walks around, she stands there, like a statue, silently wishing that all of the bad things would fly away.


	3. III

**Author's Note:** Lol. Thanks for the reviews guys, sorry for the update delay. It seems I've been plagued with writer's block on this story too _–grr-. _But good news for those who read **With Me**, expect an update sometime soon! I'M ALMOST THERE -_evil grin-. _Kindasorta. Anywayyyyy. I'm not too happy with this chapter but I know you guys will, so yeah.

Also, I've noticed that some of you guys think I'm trying to be historically accurate with this story? Well, I'm not. I'm just trying to tell a story. Because that's what this is. It's not supposed to be a history lesson, its not supposed to be _anything _like that – its just supposed to be exactly what it is – a story. Okay fine, I'm using real cities or whatever, as of modern day, but… yeah. Just a story. Nothing historical. K? K. Onward!

* * *

_**III.**_

_Such pointless oppression… Why do we have to do this?_

Jin frowns unhappily, releasing a light sigh along with it. His hands are clasped firmly behind his back as he stands tall, attempting to listen to what the Shogun is saying. Every word slips by unnoticed, and occasionally, the prince pitches in with a simple 'yes', 'mhm' and so on, to make it seem as though he is indeed listening intently.

"…to continue on the Emperor's wishes, we will…"

_This is senseless. The method to unite people is not to shed blood._

"…and eventually, we will make our way up through…"

He can still hear their screams clear in his mind. It's not that he _wanted _to kill them… He was being _made _to, and it upsets him day in and day out. Thank the heavens, though, that at least he was able to spare one life. For a few moments, he wonders if the guy is okay, if he's gotten away, or just in general, what's happened to him since.

"…and after that, we shall turn and take over the rest…"

What exactly did his Grandfather need this country for anyway? It's not as though he can't send his endless fleets around the coast and to… wherever he needs to get to. He doesn't need to raze the land, pillage every village, kill each person, steal everything, and so on; to get to what he wants. He's the Emperor of Japan.

He hates his Grandfather's ways, and deep down, he wants nothing more than to run from it all. Maybe even join the Koreans and those other countries to come, and help them rebel. He knows the army's tactics, he knows how their minds work, and so on. He can provide them with what they need to know, help them train their own soldiers, or their peasants… _Anything. _Just anything to stop more death.

"…from here, there will be no one to oppose us, and nothing can…"

He often wonders why he had to be born into royalty. He isn't ungrateful or anything, it's just… He doesn't like this. He doesn't like having to kill for a cause that he doesn't know, he doesn't like having to look into the eyes of his attacker as they fall, he doesn't like decorating the ground in pungent red spots, he doesn't like _any _of it…

"Jin Kazama! Are you listening to me?!"

He jumps, surprised, and stands straight once more, staring directly ahead of himself, "Yes, sir."

"I don't care if you're the heir to the throne, you _need _to pay attention to me!" the Shogun scolds angrily.

"I apologise," he says, bowing to emphasise his point.

Before the Shogun gets a chance to continue on, his fellow soldiers are yelling, calling his name, beckoning him towards them. He turns away from the Prince and squints in their direction, seeing a small amount of his men rushing towards a distant figure that was running away from Busan, trying to get over the hills. The person is on foot.

Jin squints, wondering who the person could be. It was clearly male. No female would even think of escaping. Judging by the amount of soldiers who are massing a few feet behind him, he's been running for a fair while now. He looks to his Shogun, who is starting to get on the closest horse to go after him. And he knew what would happen if that occurred. An instant end. A katana to the throat. A head flying off. More death.

…He can't let that happen.

"Wait!" he calls out hoarsely, just before the Shogun manages to get on the steed, after the fourth try. He is not surprised to see hard brown eyes glare back at him in return. He takes quick steps forward, grabbing the reins off his commander in one, swift movement. He places his right hand on the saddle of _his _black horse, the one that the Shogun was going to take, and speaks once more, "I will go after him. I'll bring him back."

A blatant lie.

But it is a white lie.

It's for the good of a being.

What malcontent could there possibly be in that?

_My mind is made up._

The Shogun nods and steps aside, watching as the Prince of Japan easily lifts himself onto his steed. A final check of being properly armed, both with katana and this time, a small dagger for extra protection, he hits the back of the horse, launching both the rider and the steed on their way with plenty of speed. He smirks slightly as infantrymen create a wide gap for them to pass through.

Without turning back, he urges his stallion onwards, hurriedly passing the sea of blindly loyal infantrymen. Soon enough, he catches up to the men trailing the runaway, and before long he is also hot on the Korean's trail. He squints, trying to see the person in question, but to no avail, for he was mainly covered by a dark brown cloak and hood. He breathes in and out calmly, his horse almost directly adjacent to the person. He just needs to get a little closer –

He is over the hill now, going down the other side, and so is the bandit running as fast as he possibly can. Jin quickly looks over his shoulder for a moment, seeing that they've both lost the soldiers. He's so close now that he can hear the ragged, tired breathing of the Korean. The poor guy is clearly exhausted, but is driven to keep going, to keep running and never look back, for whatever personal, underlying reason.

_And whatever that reason is, then I will help him._

His hand shoots out, grabbing the person by the back of the cloak, roughly where the collar of his shirt is, and using as much force as he can summon, yanks him up and throws him onto the moving horse, behind him. He quickly brings the horse to a stop, holding the body of the man with one hand to keep him from toppling off, and turns his head over his shoulder, seeing the bemused man blink his eyes.

He sees why.

"It's you!" the man growls angrily, reaching for his weapon –

"No, don't! I am not here to fight!" Jin answers.

It is the same man that he saw yesterday, the one whose life he had successfully spared. The same man who had matched his strikes blow for blow, slice for slice, parry for parry, and hit for hit. The same strange hair colour, the same defiant amber eyes… The one man he managed to save from that horrid, horrid night is –

About to jump off the horse?

"Please! Think rationally," he remarks hastily, grabbing the upper arm of his new passenger before he could get away entirely, "If I was against you like every other Japanese man here, I would have killed you by now upon instruction. But yet here you are, alive, moving and breathing. Surely that must mean something else!"

"Yeah, you're leaving the dirty work to another soldier instead!"

The golden dao is freed from its sheath and is heading straight towards his head. Jin successfully catches the man's wrist before it can go any further, "I am rebelling against command! Please, let me help you. I will not have my Grandfather enslave your land as he has done to others! Not this time… I am tired of countless death and destruction."

"This is a war," he growls, still trying to wrench free, "Both stalk soldiers at every turn. You will not escape them that easily."

They hear sounds. Both their heads turn to the hill, where the sound is originating from, and squint, trying to see if the soldiers are over this large hill yet, "Prince Kazama! Are you well? Do you need aid? We are on our way in any case!"

Jin turns away, steadying himself on his horse again. He looks over his shoulder one more time at the angry Korean, whose eyebrows are narrowing more and more with every passing moment, processing as much information as possible. He strains for a moment to hear his passenger murmur 'Kazama' under his breath, as though ebbing his identify into his mind, He clears his throat and tightens his grip on the reigns, "Where are you off to?"

"A Prince slaving for a peasant…" he sneers, gripping the sides of the sturdy saddle tightly, "The closest town is named Gimhae. It's in a north-westerly direction. Move that way as fast as you can so I may warn my people of the diseased plague coming their way… And you _know _that I mean you and your filthy, foreign horde."

He winces, but regardlessly catapults the three of them towards Gimhae. The wind rushes against his face, moving his bangs into an unorderly formation. The ends dare to tickle his forehead and get in the way of his vision. He flicks his head back briskly, wondering how his counterpart is doing, for he had longer hair than he did.

It is then that he realises something, and it seems the other man had the same recognition.

"The name's Hwoarang," he says.

"Greetings."

Hwoarang tilts his head forward a little, though the rider can't see it, and then back. His amber eyes drift to his left, where he sees a small forest massing, and it is here he realises that he is steering the horse towards that direction, hoping that the trees would provide cover for them from the infantrymen. Smart idea. He guesses that Kazama isn't as stupid as he appears to be.

Over the roars of pounding hooves, the twenty-two-year-old hears something else and furrows his eyebrows. He peers further into the forest that they are now a part of, swearing that he had seen something else move amongst the shadows. He grits his teeth, feeling them slide over one another, and peers harder, head turning over his shoulder to keep an eye on it, despite every jolt of the horse.

It seems the individual has stopped moving entirely. He squints harder and swears he can see a black hand resting peacefully on the trunk of the tree, and bright, yellow eyes stare right back. Soon enough though, the thing is lost in the forest, now hidden away behind various other trees and protected by the darkness created by the canopy. He would tell Kazama, though he decides to keep the information to himself.

This Prince is not to be trusted.

Unbeknownst to him, his gaze has crawled towards the hill yet again. He sees the Japanese foot soldiers massed at the top of the hill in speckled arrangement, and pictures them to be scratching their heads in confusion, wondering what wicked witchcraft has occurred, and where their beloved Prince samurai has disappeared to.

Still holding onto the saddle, he turns away swiftly, talking to the man sitting in front of him, "They look confused."

"That does not mean that they will not come looking for me," Kazama replies sadly, urging his stallion onward, "I am the sole heir to the Japanese Empire. My grandfather, Heihachi Mishima, will stop at nothing to locate me, despite the fact that he does not care, and never did. It would only be to put his wife's mind at ease."

"At least you have someone who cares," Hwoarang replies lowly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jin peers over his shoulder to see his acquaintance looking over the open fields on the right sombrely.


	4. IV

Author's Note: My chapters keep getting shorter D: Oh well. Hopefully the next one will be a big one ;) As always, thanks for your reviews guys, I appreciate them. Also, I apologise for the delay. Been busy finishing _With Me, _power-writing (somehow) through _Take Me Back, _and am also considering ideas for a _Tekken 6 Story _from the same story arc. Anyway, here's the pointless, and imo crappy, chapter four! Oh, and a little cameo from the _Me Series _pops up in here. Tis someone special ;)

* * *

_**IV.**_

It had taken them two days on horseback to get to Gimhae, something that Hwoarang was certainly pleased about, despite the minimal rest breaks that were taken for the stallion's sake. Although he had been, and still is silent for the journey, he deep down appreciates the speed that the horse was going. The other passenger frequently and urgently propelled his steed onward, realising the dire desperation of the situation.

He threw away the world that was presented to him on a platter.

The afternoon's sunlight stretches far across the land, lighting it up in a pleasant glow. The blades of grass occasionally catches the beam, giving a shy glimmer every so often with the gentle sway of the wind. The location is serene and still, making both men smile slightly.

A shame that this peaceful place is soon to become a bloodstained battleground.

Gimhae's gates are finally in view. Jin urges his horse more, murmuring silently to himself and the beast that they were almost there, and that they could stop once they reached the entrance. The tired animal continues on, his heavy hooves pattering up the hill, pulling himself and his two passengers closer and closer to their destination.

As they ride by, a peasant boy, no older than fifteen, lifts his head up from his work, stopping his current farming duties. His brown eyes follow them, though they are initially a rushing blur, and gazes in awe. Yeah, that's the life. Riding from place to place freely on a horse. He wishes he could do such a thing, though unfortunately he is currently too young and tied to the land that he is currently standing on.

"Seong-Hada, come back inside!" his Mother calls from their small home, "I need some help in here."

The boy stops his day dreaming and drops his tools, running back inside to assist his Mother. He closes the back door behind him and attempts to forget the sight he had seen only a few moments ago, putting his head back into his current reality.

Elsewhere, Jin and Hwoarang jump off their horse. The Japanese man smiles and softly strokes the side of his animal's neck in silent thanks and praise. The pirate beside him also followed suit, if only for a moment, and only a tiny scratch behind the ears. His hand falls to his side idly as he asks, "So what's his name?"

"His name is Flare."

"Where'd you get that name from?"

"My Grandmother named him because he liked to flare his nostrils threateningly whenever someone approached, especially me. The irony that I am now his rider… But such is life," he turns quickly and looks to his redheaded companion, "Have you been here before?"

"Nope. Oh… maybe once. I don't remember. I might've been drunk… But I don't think I've been here, no."

"Do you have any idea how you are going to get these people to prepare for the coming battle?"

"I have a small idea," the Blood Talon grins, arms folded, and looks around the town square briefly, seeing some people at the shops, and others just walking around with nothing to do, "I should probably exercise my voice and scream out that you lot are coming to attack soon. I can ring the town bell, too."

"It appears this town is smaller than Busan."

"Probably is. Busan's the largest on the coast. I dunno about inland. Can't really say."

"How can you not know about inla… Oh, you mentioned you were a pirate when we fought. No wonder you know more about the coastal cities than that of those inland…" Jin pauses for a moment before leaving Flare's side. He slowly walks towards the bell that is delicately poised in the centre of the town square, "Well, let us ring this then. It is a good start. If they do not listen to us then we can go to the town leader, or something."

Hwoarang nods and skitters past people hurriedly, looking around for the centre of the town, where the bell would be. He considers asking others for a moment, but opts against it, not wanting to look like an idiot. Besides, how hard could it be to locate such a structure? It's unique compared to the rest of the buildings, so it should be easy enough to find.

Soon enough, he indeed finds it and bolts to it. He doesn't notice the people watching after him warily. The urgency on his face worries them. Leaping up onto the side of the wooden structure, with both feet planted firmly on the frame, he extends a hand and grabs the rope, giving it a mighty tug, watching as it swings back and forth, listening as its sound projects across the whole of Gimhae.

As his kinsmen come, he adjusts his bandana, pushing it up, and waits patiently, holding onto the side of the structure with his arm. His amber eyes scan the area, noticing how people begin to mass in the centre, coming from all over the town. Smiling slightly, he turns and looks at Jin, who is standing nearby, also observing the scene before him. Although he doesn't know what is going through his mind, he does know that he is lucky to have had such fast transportation, even if it _is _from the enemy.

The people are all looking at him now. They're noticing his attire and are wary, but can clearly tell that he is Korean. As for the other man standing nearby though, they can't be too sure. Their attention returns to the redhead, as he gathers his voice and projects it across the sea of people, "My fellow Koreans, I come to the people of Gimhae with words of warning from the town of Busan!"

Silence sweeps amongst the crowd.

"Our proud homeland of Korea is being invaded by foreign filth from across the southern seas. They hail from Japan and they landed near Busan a few days ago, annihilating the town entirely. Homes have been raided and burnt down, trading ships have been destroyed, and their soldiers patrol the town and its entrances day in and day out. I was fortunate enough to escape so I could come here and warn you of the horrors coming your way, because _you will _be next.

"The men were murdered, and the women and children have been taken hostage. Those men who lived the battle or did not fight were also taken hostage, and all are being forced to slave for the invaders. They are setting up their base there so they can communicate with their own home. The foreign devils plan to swallow Korea whole and add it to their empire. They've set foot onto _our lands _to expand _theirs. _I say there isn't enough room for them to be here! This is _our _home, and they have no place in it!"

A middle-aged man shouts from the crowd, "What are we going to do? We are smaller than Busan, and if they were annihilated, then what will become of us!? We'll be crushed by the Japanese like a man would step on an ant!"

Hwoarang grins, "Well unlike poor Busan, Gimhae has an advantage that the Japanese wouldn't even _think _of. One of their men rebelled and came along with me. He's standing just over there, and he knows _all _of the plans and battle techniques, so if we work quickly then we should be able to counter them with ease. Sure, we're small compared to them, but with _knowledge_, we _can_ _win_.

"If we don't at least_ delay _them here, then they will sweep over the rest of Korea like water dribbling over a rock. Hopefully word of the foreign devils will reach the rest of our country, and united as one, we can take them down. In my opinion, we should wound them so bad that they'll have no choice but to return to Busan to regroup before coming back here. And in that time, we can all flee to Changwon, join their forces, and pass on our information."

The man shouts again, "How would you know? It's not like you're a fighter!"

"In my old profession I most certainly was. Now, I'm handing this… meeting over to the soldier."

The twenty-two-year-old jumps to the side and looks to Jin, who is standing there, petrified and completely unsure of himself. He clears his throat and respectfully bows to the people in hopes of easing his nerves, somehow. He stares out amongst them all, seeing furrowed faces and cautious expressions, and opens his mouth to speak to them all.

Before anything can come out, though, he is beat to it by a woman, "How do we know we can trust him?!"

"You just have to, ma'am," Jin states, smiling a little, "I never enjoyed the army, and with Emperor Mishima planning to take over _the world, _I cannot just sit by and let him torment this country, or any of the others, including his own, any longer. He is searching for a creature of unimaginable power, and with that monster tame, he plans to hold the world in his hand. If anyone dares to retaliate, this beast will be sent out after them and the person will be murdered. There is enough death in the world already.

"Now. The army likes to attack in set groups, and tries to keep them together at all costs. They are definitely dangerous this way, however they aren't so bad if you break them up and surround them. So, here is what we do…"

As he speaks, a woman in the crowd is smirking silently. She is completely covered in a black cloak, though her hood is back. Black hair flows freely down to her shoulders, and her yellow eyes stare up at him, seemingly unblinking. The person in her view has no idea that he is being watched so intently, that every move, every word and every action is monitored almost to an obsessive degree.

He might not notice, but Hwoarang certainly does. He watches her watching him as Kazama finishes his speech.

Jin stares out to the horizon and squints. He does not see anyone yet, but knows that at any moment, the Japanese army will be here, razing down the village, and also would be searching for their Prince. Swallowing, he looks back to the hoard of Koreans, and then to the ex-pirate nearby, "Let us prepare ourselves for a gruelling battle."


	5. V

Author's Note: Hey hey! A longer chapter, hooray! I actually had a lot of fun writing this chapter o.o… Expect a new update (or two) soon, seeing as the juices are just working overtime on this fic ;) And man, I can't believe I'm only on chapter five o.o Feels like so much later D:

* * *

_**V.**_

She stands at the gates of Gimhae, watching in silence as the two measly lines of able men stand a few feet away, weapons poised in their capable hands. Before them are the two men who had sprinted to the town, giving the people one last run down of their plan. The Korean is letting the Japanese man do all the talking, and simply spins his golden dao around in his hand with ease.

Her black hands clench the door tightly as the wave of soldiers is finally seen on the horizon. Soon, they will wash upon them all, like a wave on the sandy beaches. All these men, though armed with knowledge, subconsciously knew that there was no hope, and that most of them were unquestioningly going to die. Yet still, they stand at the front lines, taking in their last breaths, and were prepared to stand and fight off the invaders.

The door creaks open slightly, catching the attention of Jin. She pulls it closed silently and hides, hoping that she was not seen. She knows his brown eyes are firmly locked on the place, inspecting it in silence. After some time, she peeks out once more, her yellow eyes observing the man. He was so strong, so brave, so determined…

Her mouth twists slightly into a smile, which she struggles to hide. She turns away and buries herself further into town, pulling her black hood up once more, covering her face. Like a ghost, she moves past the natives and resumes hiding. Her time is not now. No, it is not now.

Jin tugs Flare's reigns, ordering him to stop his pacing and to line up once more, facing his fellow Japanese men. He and his steed are on the far right flank, next to a short, stocky man with a small, wispy beard. He briefly looks to him, smiling slightly, before refocussing his attention on the task at hand. His nerves made his stomach twirl and turn fiercely, threatening to revoke the remaining contents of his stomach. This always happened at the start of a battle, for him. Every single time.

Hwoarang and his chestnut horse, which had been kindly supplied to him by the town's stable owner, stand proudly at the front of their little 'army'. He is perched on it, hands folded across his stomach, head reared back, watching the approaching opponents. They're taking the time in reaching Gimhae, and he knows that the longer they take, the more nervous the men behind him will become. But they would not move forward now. He knew better than that, and so did the others behind him.

Eventually, the opposing army stands hundreds of metres away, staring back at them. The Shogun rides out to the front of his force and stares in horror, wonder, and many other nameless emotions. His mouth trembles slightly, hanging open slightly. He ordered his men to search long and hard for the missing prince, and they came up with nothing. Now, he knew why – he had betrayed them in favour of the natives.

His face hardening, the Shogun rides out further, now more than a few metres ahead of his force. He draws his katana and points it squarely at Jin. He turns the blade, watching as the edge catches the little light present and shines. He opens his mouth, his booming voice carrying across the remaining distance and rattling the mini-army he is soon going to destroy, "You have betrayed your country."

"For all the right reasons," Jin says peacefully, drawing his own katana, holding it by his side.

The Shogun's face twists with disgust. With a mighty shout, he charges, the rest of his army following behind him, bleeding over the hill, like water dribbling over stones. Every last Korean in that force, in that _village, will _be destroyed. He will have the redhead's head on a pike at the entrance, symbolising their tyranny and how that not even being a pirate will save anyone else who _dared _to challenge him. And then the rest of the land will fall beneath Japan's mighty fist.

Prince Kazama will also be his, and his _alone. _To punish and to break for the remainder of his days.

Hwoarang says nothing, and launches his own horse into the looming doom. Behind him are his kinsmen, ready to fight to the death for the land and the people that they love. With their pride infinitely concrete and their weapons prepared, they move swiftly, holding their breaths tightly and holding their silent prayers close to their hearts.

The moments leading up to the inevitable clash are long, but short at the same time. Hwoarang's heart is thudding in his ears, blocking out all other noise. The grinding hooves over the grass, the manly yells, the clinking armour – it's all blocked out. Nothing but the sound of his own breathing and the blood pumping through his body vigorously. Far from pure silence, but far from overwhelming noise. An unusual bank in the middle, one that he isn't sure he prefers.

And then they collide, and noise floods back.

He lifts his dao and throws back the falling katana. He feels his teeth grinding over one another, moving his dao vertically in the hopes of slashing the Shogun in the one opening in his armour – his stomach. It fails, and is parried like his strike had been earlier. The force of the move almost has him fall off his horse, but he maintains balance, gripping onto the reigns tightly as strike after strike after strike is matched with fancy blocks and parries.

The Blood Talon's defence crumbles for a brief moment, as the Shogun's katana moves towards his head. His eyes widen slightly, and he moves to the side, half sliding off of his steed to do so. The blade scratches by, opening a small wound that goes across his cheek. Unfortunately, this manoeuvre provides his opponent with the perfect opportunity to get him down on the ground. However, as he moves to vertically slide, he notices that the pirate is already on the ground, and slicing –

His horse goes down with a scream. The Shogun is rattled, and forcibly jumps off as his beloved horse falls. That brat had cut off her leg, and thereafter stabbed her in the chest, ensuring her death. He growls in anger and moves to mirror his foe's action, but before he gets the chance, he is lifted off of the ground by the side of his armour. What strength does this man have?

With a cruel sneer, Hwoarang throws the Shogun back, though his arm shakes with effort to do so. He digs his heels into his steed, and immediately, his horse spurs into action and charges forward. The Shogun is still on the ground before him. Hopefully, he can trample it. Cut the head off the body, and the body will die… both in a metaphorical sense, referring to the army, and a literal sense, referring to the samurai a few feet away.

However, he doesn't get the chance to make his dream a reality. The Shogun rolls out of the way and jumps to his feet, forcing Hwoarang to turn around. He pulls the horse back, forcing it onto his back legs, as his powerful limbs flail out back and forth wildly, deterring his opponent from running straight in and striking the beast in his heart.

Before the distraction concludes, he looks around him. The Japanese army are still tight, and his little force is doing alright. He cannot see Jin amidst the chaos, simply because his uniform as the same as those he was fighting. It is as he surveys the area, he decides that the plan should be put into action _now, _before the Koreans are cornered individually and picked off, one by one.

He turns the steed's reigns to the side, making it move away from any coming strikes, and rides urgently, making his way through the battlefield. He holds his dao out and slices where necessary. A head, an arm, it didn't matter. As long as it was some Japanese pig falling to the ground, then his little stunt proves good and helps his fellow man.

"Get in line!" he shouts, watching his men obey his order quickly and efficiently, whilst still defending themselves. He turns his horse once more, being the basis for the six smaller lines that were going to make up their little group, "I want everyone in line, now! Remember our plan, because we're going to do it right now, while we're still able to!"

Eventually, they are regrouped, and so is the Japanese army. The Shogun orders his force to hold their positions, and he wonders what the Korean side is planning. The infantry are at the very front, katanas pointed and at the ready. The remaining cavalry are at the back, waiting, and even further back still are the archers, angling their shots high, ready to send wave after wave of straight arrows. The Shogun observes through dark brown eyes and taps his fingers on his arm, standing at the very front with his infantrymen.

Hwoarang looks over his force again and nods briefly, charging forward again, the rest of the men beside and behind him following immediately. All weapons point to the side; sparing the very front row, which pointed forward, and the back row, which pointed back. They move, the cavalry at the front, the infantry running as fast as they can at the back, and tear through the direct centre of the Japanese army, forcing them apart.

Hooves crush men, as the force stampedes through. Men's screams rise, and they all do their best to block it out. They just keep pushing forward, mowing down the Japanese men, obliterating them. Once they get through to the other side, they split up. Half of their forces moves to the left, and the other half goes to the right. One is under control of Hwoarang, and the other is under control of Jin. Together, they repeat the action, splitting up the army further, causing panic to grow through the ranks.

Jin closes his eyes as his katana goes through the faces of people he once knew. It doesn't help the fact that he can identify voices, though. There goes Koji, followed by Shigeaki, followed by Junnosuke… God, it is so hard block out the voices. It doesn't help that his steed treads on the fallen bodies of other Japanese men. It's even _harder _now, trying to ignore all of that. But he tries, making Flare take the lead and move forward relentlessly.

And they break through, swallowing a giant breath of air. Jin opens his eyes and looks behind him, seeing his former comrades scream and shake their heads. His eyes flicker to his katana for a moment, seeing blood drip down it, and his stomach turns and twists over and over. He swallows, braving himself to lead the small force once more, and pick off the dispersed units opposite him, even as they scattered and considered fleeing.

He charges again, and this time, what's left of the infantry and cavalry turn to run. But no matter how hard they try, he knows that he will catch them, and kill them. Every jolt of Flare's movements unnerve him that little bit more. His eyes lock onto a gaping hole on one of the soldier's necks, where the base of the helmet is. He angles his katana horizontally, the sharp, lethal edge pointing towards him.

And he rides past. The head goes flying, scattering into the masses, and the body collapses to the ground with a sickening thud. The action repeats time and time and time again, to different people and from different blades, aside from his own. He can hear his former Shogun shouting commands, telling his remaining forces to regroup and retreat to Busan… that they'd come here later and try again. That for now, it was best to fight another day.

"We won!" Hwoarang shouts, pulling up next to a slowing Jin, glee glowing all over his face.

He feigns a smile, and turns to look at the rest of the Koreans who were shouting with joy. The fake aspect of the smile disappears, and it becomes real. He watches as they slap hands with one another, ruffle the nearest's hair, and so on and so forth. Although so many lives were taken today, he knows he has done the right thing in turning away from his country to help fight against the growing evils within and around it.

He strokes Flare's mane and pats the side of his neck, watching a peculiar, glowing beetle fly over the area, "Good job, my friend."

* * *

He clenches his fists even more so. He didn't realise that he still had such strength in his brittle, old body, as he listens to his servant drone on and on and on about the misfortune that happened a few days back on the Korean soil. And the root of it all? The root of all of his current problems? Why, of course. His idiot, repulsive grandson.

Lee swallows and straightens up, "I apologise for displeasing you, sir, but you _had _to know what happened."

Heihachi hisses vehemently, "It was only a matter of time before that soft heart of his got in the way of everything. I should have pushed him harder, struck him more… I should've turned him into a _stone _man, not this… ridiculous person. He shames the family name even more so now than he has before! I am disgusted in him!"

Kazume pats her husband's hand in silent sympathy, though deep down she is overjoyed by what Jin has done. She knows that he would do the right thing and go down the right path. She knows that he was smart enough to realise what Heihachi was planning, and how hard he would fight to get it to occur. The sacrifices that had already been made were endless, and her husband is responsible for it all.

"What are you going to do, sir?" Lee inquires stiffly. He already knows the answer, but he still has to ask.

Heihachi babbles on, and Kazume doesn't listen. Whatever he throws at Jin, he will overcome it with ease. She stands, deciding to excuse herself, and is followed by Asuka, Jin's servant. She offered her services to the Empress upon her master's leave, and Kazume has been more than happy to have her. She is a wonderful person, let alone servant, and has the true will of a warrior. She thinks that she shouldn't be in this royal house, making beds, scrubbing the floors and opening doors. This life is without thrill, and far too simple for her.

She looks to her as they leave the room. She is Jin's cousin, a Kazama. The rest of the Kazama family were murdered, though she was unsure if it was intentional or not. Both she and Jin arrived when they were young, the latter proclaiming that he was the son of Kazuya, something that Heihachi could not deny. Asuka was simply shoved somewhere, sadly. She thinks that she would be a great fighter, or an archer even. If only she had the knowledge to pass down…

"How are you today, Asuka?" Kazume asks, locking her fingers together as she travels down the hall.

"I'm well, my lady. How are you?"

"I am also well, thank you for asking."

Communication between them has always been minimal, though there is no real reason for that. Both, however, are on the same side, so to say. Both disagree with Heihachi's intentions, though they dare not to open their mouths, for they would be killed. Both disagree with the way Heihachi conducts himself and raises Jin, but they still keep their mouths closed. It really isn't their business, as much as they'd like to make it so.

The Empress soon finds herself in the kitchen, where she wants to be. Asuka is still by her side, as attentive as ever. The eighteen-year-old servant pushes open the door for her current master, earning a slight nod, wide smile and a polite 'thank you'. She follows after the woman, passing straight down the middle of the kitchen to the other side, where two men gut fish.

The other chefs stop what they are doing and bow to her, before returning to their work. One nearby clears his throat in the hopes of stirring the two, which it does. One looks to the other, before stopping what they're doing, and bowing as well. The older speaks, "Our apologies, Madam."

"Rise," Kazume states peacefully, "I may be an Empress, but I do not see you as slaves."

They do as she commands and smile.

"How are the two best chefs in all of Japan today?" she asks, "Are we well?"

"Forrest and I are well, thank you," the older one states, returning to what he was doing.

Forrest and Marshall Law, the lead chefs in the royal house. Both are Chinese, and were captured by Heihachi when he attempted to take over China a few years ago. They were brought back to Japan to slave for the royal house, ordering them to cook and to teach the other chefs to cook just as well as themselves. Both father and son hate Heihachi, but they do not mind everyone else in the house. Forrest has a particular liking to Asuka, for she kept him company those first, few lonely nights, just by talking with him.

The younger of the two smiles at the servant, the memory being so close to him. He is glad to have such a friend.

Kazume nods slightly and speaks to Marshall, "Would it be alright if you made me something small to eat? I am a little hungry."

"Certainly," he says, putting down the knife, the guts and the fish. He wanders away to wash his hands, and thinks of a meal to prepare for the Empress. Meanwhile, the other chefs around him continue to clean dishes, as they always do.

Forrest looks to Kazume, stopping what he is doing, and asks, "Has anything new happened overseas? Jin's alright?"

"He has betrayed us," she states forlornly, talking to him, but looking past him, gazing into the wall. She sighs and tightens her grasp on her fingers, "He has sided with Korea, and whilst I am proud of him, it is somewhat of a silly thing to do, because as we all know, Heihachi will now stop at nothing to murder him. All he needed was a reason, and a reason has now been supplied. He will fall like Kazuya before him…"

But if she only knew the truth.

* * *

Hundreds of feet away, the warriors of Gimhae gather their fallen comrades sadly. The day is slipping away slowly, and the last of the sun is being covered up by hazy clouds. Rain can be smelt, and thunder rolls warningly. It is suitable, for the rain will wash away the stain of blood from the earth. The rain will wash away the unease and the discomfort, if only for a few more days.

The bug flies towards the village, its wings beating feverishly. Soon enough, it is through the tiny crack in the gate, and flies into the waiting hand of the woman. Whitish-blue in colour, it is easy to spot atop her black hand. She smiles slightly and raises the insect towards her ear, where she listens to it hum and buzz intently, collecting information. A former woman of nature, it is only fitting that she understands the tiny thing.

Footsteps approach, though she does not fear them. A man now stands beside her, a hand on her cloaked shoulder. He too is cloaked to disguise himself, though through the darkness of his face, a passing individual can still see a glowing red eye; though they pay no mind, simply turning away in silent fear.

"What does the scarab say?" he asks, watching as it now flies away from her hand, travelling to another land.

"Gimhae has driven out the Japanese," she replies, looking to him.

He chuckles and walks away, "Very well, then… Did he bring orders from our master?"

"Yes. Our master wants us to continue the search for the keys, and to not allow Japan to get any closer to finding him. He does not want to be found, and he will do anything to keep Heihachi and his forces away from him…" she turns to face him, only to find that he is leaving. She frowns, "So you are leaving, then…?"

"I am going to look in China for another key," he states, taking off his cloak, gathering it underneath his arm. He is happy that Gimhae is completely isolated, for he would not want to be recognised, even though the Koreans probably would not be able to identify him. He stands a little taller, bearing his scars and his duty in the quiet of the dusk, "You follow them."

In a brilliant flash of purple light, he has changed. His skin is now nothing but purple scales, and with a lashing tail and wide wings, he jumps into the air, flying away to his self-appointed destination. She watches him leave, her yellow eyes filled with remorse and sadness. They have come so far together, yet in reality, they have never been further apart.

Though they work for the same person, though they are both tainted, he agrees to his master's plans. She does not, and if he was ever to find out then… then… She doesn't want to think about it. Who knows what that devil would do. For a moment, she is briefly reminded of Heihachi and Kazume, and realises that through that bloodline, he has taken the same stance and treats her the same way.

Their experiences tie them together, but their beliefs rip them apart.

She looks out to Jin, who, along with the rest of the Koreans, are returning. She turns away and hurriedly runs out, going towards the nearby village of Changwon, where the rest of the women and children are. If she arrived at the village and was asked what kept her from fleeing Gimhae, she could say that she was looking out for her son. But still, to keep secrecy, she must blend in, and with the spirit of the wolf biting at her back, she goes.


	6. VI

Author's Note: I KNOW, "wtf Razer?!". I've taken over the section it seems DDDD: Sorry XD But I just can't stop writing, seriously. I wrote this directly after the next chapter, and its just been itching to come out :\ So here it is. I'm gonna try and abstain from posting ANYTHING for a week. Note that I said "try", I can't make promises D:

* * *

_**VI.**_

Hwoarang pokes some meat into the fire, "Cook, damn you…"

A long month passed. The days had just flown through the wind aimlessly. Changwon's preparations were a huge success, and already, information had been passed onto other towns nearby – Jinju, Gwangyang, Miryang, Ulsan, Gyeongju, Daegu, Namwon and Pohang. It is amazing how fast words spread through travellers.

Currently, though, Hwoarang and Jin are at Gumi. They already had taught their small forces how to fight, and planned to leave _well _before dawn for Cheongju, providing that some of Gumi's forces would spread the information to the neighbouring Gimcheon, Sangju and Daejeon villages. Sadly, it is here that they've learnt of the Japanese's southern coastal advancements. Aside from Busan, Tongyeong, Yeosu and Haenam had been taken. Apparently, they planned to go north from here.

It is a race to Seoul and beyond.

"Hey, Kazama?" Hwoarang calls, "How's your vegetables and rice?"

"They are very nice thank you," he replies, picking up more of his food from the small wooden bowl in his large hand. A woman had made this for him, and he was quite appreciative of such wonderful cooking. She had just… come up to him, cloaked and all, and handed him some food, stating that 'growing boys need something healthy to eat'.

Hwoarang had noticed, and just narrowed his eyes. It was the same woman he had seen staring at Jin in Gimhae.

_I've seen her too many times now for it to be just a coincidence, _he says to himself, poking the meat some more with his stick, _I swear she's following us… But why? What the hell do we have that she wants? I dunno about Kazama, but I certainly haven't stolen her baby or anything!_

Deciding that the meat is now well cooked, he draws it out of the fire and blows on it, watching smoke rise. Waiting for a few moments, he gets a little closer and takes a small bite, instantly regretting it. It burns his mouth, but he forces himself to swallow that piece immediately, and wait for the rest of the food to cool down. He doesn't fancy a dead tongue.

Jin notices his silence and uses it as an opportunity to speak, "Too hot?"

"Yeah."

He chuckles slightly and looks back down to his own meal, "So, what is your story?"

This catches Hwoarang off guard. He looks to the Prince, "What?"

"What is your story?" he asks, looking back at him, "I am the Prince of Japan rebelling against my Grandfather. You are a pirate, yet there is clearly much, much more to you. What is your story?"

"I don't have one," he snits.

"Every man has their own story to share. Their actions write out the words on the pages, and by the end of their life, they have written a book full of compelling and heart wrenching tales. Come Hwoarang, tell me of your life so far."

"I don't have a page to start on. And I can't write or read."

He hesitates for a moment before popping a piece of carrot into his mouth. Chewing it, he speaks, despite the bad etiquette, "Then I shall ask questions, and you can answer them. Tell me of your family. Do you have a younger sibling?"

He says nothing and merely glares at his fellow twenty-two-year-old through narrowed eyes. That is a question he doesn't want to answer. His hand coyly moves back and forth over his golden dao, not in a threat, but in silent remembrance.

However, from Jin's eyes, it is a threat. He asks a different question, "Where in Korea did you originate from?"

He looks away and stares at his meat, his eyebrows furrowing, "Seongnam."

"That is near Seoul."

"It's on the way, but I'd prefer to go around it."

"Why?"

"Bad memories."

"Share them."

"No."

Jin watches as the Korean leads the meat to his mouth once more. He takes another bite, and this time, he chews it slowly, for it is not too hot. He shakes his head and picks up more food with his chopsticks, swiftly guiding the pieces into his mouth. He flicks a stubborn rice grain off of his chin, and readjusts his sitting position. His legs are getting numb.

"Why are you so interested?" Hwoarang finally asks, swallowing a piece of his food.

"I would like to know more about my companion, that's all. Oh! Why did you name your horse Baek?"

He freezes entirely, and Jin notices this. The chestnut horse that had been given to him at Gimhae had been dubbed Baek after about two or so days. The Japanese man is interested as to why he managed to pick a name so easily. The way that the pirate said his name was unusual, too. Affectionate and longing. Jin himself didn't garner such care for Flare for _years._

"Just… someone I knew…" he replies. Though his voice is strong, there is still weakness.

"Like somebody you played with in Seongnam when you were a child?"

"Yeah… Someone I played with as a child…"

His voice continues to break. Jin realises he is getting somewhere, "Tell me about him."

"No."

"Hwoarang –"

"Shut up."

"I –"

"Just shut up, will you?!"

The Prince silences immediately, as amber eyes harshly glare at him. He leans back a little and looks back to his hands, seeing his fingers curl around the bowl. Whoever this person was, it is clear that Hwoarang is still running away from him. He has been running for so long that he doesn't want to turn back and see exactly how far away he is.

So he keeps running, jumping from one place to another, sailing this way and that. Never ending, eternally a wanderer, until his memories have been cleansed. Whatever memories they are, they must be haunting to have an adult man continuously sprint away and drown them in intoxicating liquid fire, silk hands and bloody battles. He surrounds himself with people, be they drinking buddies, women or fellow fighters, hoping that they provide enough distraction. And although there are people around him, he is not a part of the crowd.

_Such a lonely life, _he muses.

He watches as the Korean's hand slides away from the golden dao, and now moves to a silver necklace around his neck. It is a silver star, with a silver skull in the centre. He glides his fingers around its design, simply staring into the fire, as though he is trying to fight the memory away, and keep with him whatever good ones remain.

Eventually, Jin lifts the bowl once more and starts to eat. However, before he manages to drop some of the food into his eagerly awaiting mouth, his companion speaks in a murmur, looking at him from the corner of his eyes.

"Baek was my Dad."

And silence holds them tightly.

"He was murdered when I was fifteen."

"I'm so sorry."

He shrugs, "Life goes on."

"What about your Mother?"

"She died giving birth to me. Baek was all I had."

Jin winces. After a few moments, he speaks again, "Who murdered Baek?"

"You filthy dogs."

He pauses. That would be about right… That was Heihachi's original attempt to take over Korea. The Japanese fleet had sailed all the way around to Incheon, taken that, and went to Seongnam to make a second base. From there, they would have gone directly to Seoul, but Seongnam's forces, coupled with neighbouring Ansan and what was left of Incheon, threw them out of the country entirely.

Seongnam had been razed to the ground regardless.

"He fought fending you out," he growls, clenching his fist, "And you still fucking came back in."

Jin says nothing.

"You took away my father, my home, _everything _I ever knew. And for what? For some twisted, sick game of enslaving another country!"

The food and stick are dropped back into the fire. Hwoarang hunches over and holds his head in his hands, no longer hungry. He stares at the fire once more, and the memories come alight. Burning homes, screaming people, chaos, disorder and blood.

And he can even see himself, hiding near Seongnam's back exit, holding a few things of his and Baek's. And then Baek fell on the other side, keeping the Japanese away. He started to cry, and then he ran to the coast, to Ansan, where the entire pirate ordeal started. He can see himself stumble about port, dry tears on his cheeks, a complete mess. He still had the two bags on his form, and his Dad's dao by his side, something he refused to let go entirely.

Hwoarang tries to pull himself from the memory by himself. A hand on his shoulder stirs him, and he sees Jin next to him.

"My parents are dead too," he begins, sitting next to him, "Or they may as well be. They've just… vanished. My father was Kazuya Mishima, son of Emperor Heihachi Mishima and Empress Kazume Mishima. He was ordered to Okinawa, where a rebellion was taking place, along with a small army, and was ordered to crush it. Sure, he fought, but… he ran away. The rebellion was stopped, and my father remained hidden in Okinawa. They searched for him, but he was never found. He threw away his title to become a peasant man. He was sick of the high life.

"And he met my mother, Jun Kazama. She was tending for her dying father, and had dropped her supplies when accidentally bumping into him. My mother was very naïve; she had no idea who this man actually was. But he helped her gather her things once more. She invited Kazuya over for dinner… and things just went on from there. They got married and they had me. They still lived with my mother's father, and around the time he died, I had a little cousin called Asuka. Her mother passed on giving birth, so she was pretty much adopted into our family. She may as well be my little sister, and I love her dearly.

"But many years later, Okinawa started to rebel again. I was… eleven at the time. The Emperor sent down a force to crush it, under the lead of the Emperor himself. Asuka and I woke up one day and searched for Mum and Dad, but… they were gone. They had just completely vanished, but they left a note on the kitchen table…" he pauses for a moment, trying to remember what it said, and then continues on, "It said something like… 'We're sorry. Jin, take Asuka and go to Heihachi. Tell Heihachi that you are the son of Kazuya Mishima. Things should be okay then.'

"We went outside to see the armies in the distance. We just… ran as fast as we could, and the closer we got, the more I could see the Emperor. And before everything started, we were standing between the armies, and I just screamed that I was Kazuya's son, just as mother instructed… I will never forget the look on his face. He just… shook his head repeatedly, muttering 'it cannot be'. Then he took us to Kyoto, where we live now in the palace, and raised me as though I am his own son. But... if this is how Kazuya was raised, then I see why he stayed in Okinawa with my mother. He is brutal and relentless, and I wish I never met him."

Hwoarang continues staring into the fire. He murmurs, "Do you miss them?"

Jin looks to the ground, "Everyday."

He nods slightly, silence holding them both. Eventually, he looks to his stomach as it growls, and chuckles under his breath, saying, "Shouldn't have thrown away my food."

"I have some rice and vegetables left. Would you like them?"

The Blood Talon nods a little, "Alright… Then I'm going to sleep, out here. Screw going inside."

Jin stands and moves over towards where he had been sitting previously. He picks up the bowl and the chopsticks, and makes his way back over to his fellow traveller. Handing them to him, he turns away and heads for the inn that is a few metres behind them. Stopping between the two distances, he turns and looks over his shoulder to Hwoarang, who is gratefully eating. He speaks, "You will have to face Seongnam one day. Why not face it with a friend?"

The Korean snorts, amused, as Jin goes inside.

* * *

The ride to Cheongju, although only a few hours old, is unquestioningly difficult. Both Hwoarang and Jin feel as though they are being followed, and, although they look over their shoulder continuously, they see nothing but a shrinking Gumi. They try to shake the feeling, but it just keeps coming back with force. Regardless, they continue to ride in silence, with nothing but the wind and the clash of hooves breaking it up.

Flare and Baek are also disturbed, though they hide it easier than their masters.

The rising sun is climbing its way into the cloudless sky from their side. It illuminates the lighting sky in an eerie orange hue. It spreads some of its rays in a single line, outlining the horizon for the travellers. And the pair race towards it, using it as a guide. Their destination is right there, on the horizon. The more they move, the closer they will get, and another village will be ready for the Japanese.

Hwoarang unexpectedly pulls Baek to an immediate stop. He looks over his shoulder again, scanning for any signs of life. He is getting continuously frustrated by the feeling that swarms him wholly. Jin eventually pulls Flare to a stop, and also looks over his shoulder, "What is it?"

"I swear someone's following us."

"Yeah… But it is best not to think on it," he turns away and orders Flare to move again to Cheongju, however he stops when he sees someone standing hundreds of metres away. That person was not there before… "Hwoarang, look! Up ahead!"

He veers around and sees what Jin sees. Confused, he quirks an eyebrow and looks to his accomplice, before spurring Baek onward. The Japanese man has the same idea, and soon enough, Flare is riding along side him. They move together, getting closer to the individual standing in the middle of the field, the metres melting away.

Eventually, the person becomes clearer to see. Hwoarang stops merely metres away, eyes narrowed, and growls, "You again!"

The woman lifts her head slightly and smiles, though neither man can see it due to the hood. The arms of her clothing fall down to the middle of her hands, exposing black fingers. She opens her mouth and speaks, her voice carrying across the distance, ringing clearly, her yellow eyes shining through the darkness, "Hello, fighters."

"What do you want?" Jin remarks calmly.

Hwoarang hisses, "Why are you following us?! You've been following us since Gimhae! That's a month!"

She says nothing and merely fiddles with her fingers.

"Answer me!"

"Silence, pirate!" she hisses. Her hand shoots up and twists, and her fingers curl.

The air is rushing out of him. The Blood Talon doesn't know what's going on. All he knows is he can't breathe, and because of that, he's starting to panic. Whatever witchcraft this woman is doing, it is directly affecting him. He drops Baek's reigns and puts his hands to his throat, coughing, clawing at his skin. It feels like a hand is choking him. Maybe it is her hand.

"What are you doing?!" Jin shouts, "Let him go!"

She does so immediately, and Hwoarang inhales as much air as possible. He leans forward on Baek for support, still taking in all the air. With a shaky hand, he goes to grab his golden dao, grasping the hilt firmly. With a swift motion, he takes it from his sheath, and twirls it around in his right hand, trying to get the shakes out of it.

She looks amongst the two of them, seeing Jin do the same as his companion. The smile seemingly grows, and her hands move away from her sides, palms facing them. She rises off of the ground, no longer standing, and both men freeze as they see this act. The bottom of her cloak ruffles, as does the green grass that is below her.

Both men's eyes widen as a phantom wolf appears behind her. It is three times their horse's size. She speaks, "Your quest will lead you to a greater evil than you anticipate. You think that the end of the line is Emperor Heihachi, but no, there are more beyond him, and they are far more sinister. Emperor Heihachi would appear _kind _compared to those following him.

"He seeks something. I am sure you know this, Prince Jin, for you and Asuka do far too much snooping for your own good," the woman chuckles slightly as the mentioned man blinks rapidly, "But what does he seek? Indeed, it is an alluring thought. You cannot be allowed to find out, and with every bone in my cursed body, I will see to it that you do _not _get past me or his other servants… That you will _not _reach the end of the line to meet death."

Jin speaks, agitated, worried and confused, "How do you know of Asuka? How do you know that I am a _prince?_"

"I know you much more than you think, and it is for that reason that I cannot allow you nor your friend to go further."

Her rigid arms rise, horizontally parallel to one another. Her palms are outstretched, her fingers pointing to the sky, and immediately, the abnormally large wolf behind her bounds forward, going through her as a spirit, and then becomes real, charging towards Jin and Hwoarang, and their two steeds. From the ground below her hovering point, scarabs stream out from the ground, and in their masses, they crawl towards them.

Flare and Baek whinny unhappily, not liking what they see. Baek bucks, almost throwing Hwoarang off in the process, but eventually, the Korean guides his horse sideways, out of the way of the lunging wolf. Jin mirrors his move, only going in the opposite direction. Such actions doesn't deter the wolf from chasing after the chestnut horse, and it doesn't deter the scarabs from splitting up, half going one way, the other half going the other.

The wolf snaps at Baek's tail. Awkwardly, the Blood Talon turns in his saddle, riding backwards, facing the monster. It too has glowing yellow eyes, and its white fangs are coated with saliva. With one hand on his horse's shoulder, he slashes at the monster with his dao, trying to keep it away from him. The blade draws blood on the creature's snout, though that does not deter him for long, even as his nostrils flare.

One of his strikes misses entirely, and the wolf's mighty jaw clamps onto his horse's rear. Baek fights back though, kicking his hind legs into the throat of the beast, throwing him off entirely. Hwoarang uses this opportunity, and jumps off, tackling the beast to the ground, desperately trying to get his dao to the wolf's throat to kill him. However, the beast's front legs are flailing wildly, preventing him from getting any closer.

The wolf's claws tear across Hwoarang's cheek, and he growls in frustration. The strike itself causes him to look to his right, where he sees the scarabs coming closer and closer, and it is then that he bites his lip and is at a loss for what to do. What are they, and how do you kill them? Why do they look so menacing? And since _when _did the cobras come out of that little place in the ground, following the scarab army?!

His eyes widen as one comes slithering towards him. He jumps up and off the wolf, moving away from the coming cobra. It snaps at his foot, but he jumps up again, and hurriedly grabs its tail. Before it has a chance to turn around and bite him, he throws it towards the woman, hoping to strike her in the face with its fangs or something just as foolhardy.

It misses the woman, and Jin, who is behind her. Jin extends a hand out, hoping to reach the woman's hood and pull it off. He misses, however, when she moves out of the way and strikes him in his left arm with a mighty punch. The attack itself burns, as though the liquid blackness on her hands is poison, or acid. He veers Flare away and cradles the wound, looking at it. Although she had punched him on clothing, it still hurt and burned.

"Sorry," she says sincerely, her silky tone making him shiver.

It is scarily familiar.

Baek rides by Hwoarang again, and he jumps onto the beast, moving towards the woman. The wolf tries to follow, albeit slowly, and the cobras attempt to bite him at his feet and at Baek's legs, though they all miss. The hooves of the horse crush the menacing beetles, though the fact that some are crawling up the animal's legs still frighten both rider and steed.

Dao at the ready, he spurs Baek on, and he gets closer and closer and closer to the woman. Edge out first, he moves to slice the woman – and he does, only at her left shoulder, not her head like he had originally hoped. He looks behind him as the sleeve falls off to the ground, revealing milky white skin and some blood trickling from his slice. The blackness of her hands only travels up to her forearms, and there is a peculiar tattoo on her upper arm.

Jin just stares. He has that mark too, though no one knows this aside from himself and Asuka. Kazuya and Jun once knew, though with them no longer in his life, well…

"You're not bad, pirate," she says, turning in mid air. She folds her arms across her stomach, and the scarabs and cobras disappear. The wolf runs through her again, and is transparent behind her once more. It is an unusual thing to see. It is almost as though the wolf can only live truly by passing through the body of a living person, "You definitely have skills to be proud of. But both you and Jin, as skilled as each of you are… you will not be able to take him down, no matter how hard you try, and no matter how hard I hope."

"How hard you hope?" Hwoarang inquires, quirking an eyebrow.

She covers her mouth briefly before dropping her hand again, raising the other above her head, "I have said too much."

With a snap of her fingers, she begins to fade away.

In an act of desperation, Jin yells, "Wait! Tell us, who is beyond Heihachi!"

She says nothing and merely smiles.

"Who are _you_?!"

She hesitated in her answer, not even sure herself, "I am… _unknown._"

No name, no life, no purpose. She embodies the name of 'unknown' wholly, as she vanishes.


	7. VII

Author's Note: If you haven't already, I advise you observe the giant note addressed to you, my readers, under my "note board" (which is in my profile). It'll explain my current situation, and it will also explain how difficult it was to get this chapter out, let alone find the will within me to share it. Hopefully you'll appreciate this chapter more than you would my past chapters, due to the fact that I cannot write _anything _like I used to.

I mean, ask people like TeaC0sy, Thunderxtw, AmberAnodyne and PopShop. I am a _machine _when it comes to writing. Used to be like… one thousand words a day. And now? I can barely get five hundred together. I guess I should welcome the change, because now I know how a lot of you other writers feel. And this is allegedly normal for you? –shakes head- Its going to take some getting used to. But enough of my rambles. I'm sorry if I've offended anyone, I didn't mean to, and I don't want to seem as though I'm looking down my nose at you guys. I'm just not used to this change. But anyway! Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

_**VII.**_

Who is Unknown?

_Such a mysterious, strange, indefinite woman… _Jin muses.

He had been thinking all week on the encounter with Unknown. The experience at Cheongju had been altered because of her – he hadn't been so happy to teach them the ways of the Japanese army, because his mind was squarely focused on her. He was, and is still just… drawn to her. What is it about her that makes him feel… _safe?_

It isn't right.

Since Cheongju, the dynamic duo made their way through Cheonan and Pyeongtaek. From those two villages, information continued to be passed on to Gongju, Chungju, Suwon and Ansan. They are currently tracking to Yeoju, and the stop after that would be Seongnam. That very fact still makes Hwoarang's stomach turn, but Jin tries to comfort him about it, only to be met with silence.

But finally, beyond that, and beyond the river, is Seoul, the capital. That is where they will make their biggest stand.

They hope.

"I'm thirsty," Hwoarang mutters.

"Then get some water out of your pack…" Jin suggests.

"For _beer._"

"Oh…"

The Korean sighs, exasperated. Baek below him moves in a light trot beside Flare. He has been away from his old pirate life for so long, that he _swears _he's forgotten the taste of beer and the feel of a woman – something he isn't happy about. Just because he's left that particular life behind to start anew, doesn't mean that he wants to forget… _certain_ experiences.

For instance, there was that time where his ship had been taken over by other pirates. He and his own band of buddies valiantly fought off every last one of them, throwing their bodies, be they living or dead, into the salty seas below. He had lost many of his crew that fateful night two years ago, and it was also a real test of his captaincy, courage and tactics. Reflecting on it, he likes to think that he pulled through and dealt with that time period very well, and he wants to remember it.

His stomach grumbles. Rolling his eyes, trying to ignore it, he continues onward. Both he and his companion are making record time in their journey, and he most certainly did not want to stop now. The faster they move, the faster they'll get to Seoul. The faster they get to Seoul, the more time Korea will have to arm their men and place them in line against the Japanese, defending their land.

"Do you think we can stop them?" Jin suddenly asks.

Surprised, the Blood Talon does a double take, looking at his counterpart twice; before giving an unintelligible response, "Eh?"

"Do you think we can protect your country?"

"I'm… not sure," he replies hesitantly, then adding, "But I certainly hope so."

Yeoju basks in the setting sun upon the horizon, visible to all.

* * *

A heavy thud rings through the cavernous room and bounces through the long, narrow halls. The hole in the roof reveals the orange sun, creeping out from the hilltops and mountaintops. Such a gorgeous sight, completely ignored, as there are more pressing issues within the hall of the Emperor.

"Where is it?"

Feigning frailty, he looks up, saying nothing. His wiry beard trails to his collarbone, covering the elaborate, light green design of his royal clothing. He narrows his eyes sharply, and wishes he could pick himself up and off the floor; but he doesn't, because he knows that he will merely be thrown upon the ground once more by the amethyst attacker.

He turns his head and looks to his granddaughter, who cowers behind two of her three bodyguards. The third is on the opposite side of the room, alert and ready to pounce to defend the grandfather of her owner. She growls, her black and white hairs standing in anger and rage at the foreign humanoid within the room. She glances at her master, who is hiding tears behind her tiny hands.

The creature lurches forward and grabs the Emperor by the front of his clothing. He lifts him up into the air, his third eye unblinking, "Where is it?!"

His determination unwavering and his fear undetectable, Jinrei stares at his opponent in the eye, "I do not know."

Angered by this announcement, he throws the Emperor to the ground again and screams. His gleaming, red eyes scan the room one last time, before deciding that the key is elsewhere. He's already torn up the palace looking for it, and had the pleasure of murdering a few servants, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not locate the item within this building or its premises. Running a few steps forward, he leaps into the air, and flies out of the hole from where he came, his purple tail trailing behind him.

Once he is gone, he shakily stands to his feet, well aware of his granddaughter's light footsteps coming his way, "Grandpa, are you okay?"

He straightens up and nods slightly, smiling, "I am fine, Xiaoyu."

She hears him, but continues to worry. Hurriedly, she brushes dust off of his clothing, and straightens it up, her black hair swaying as she does so, "Who does he think he is? Just barging in like that… Who – or rather, _what _is he? And what is he looking for?" She bites her lip, returning her hands to her sides. She notices the silence, and presses once again, "What is he looking for? A key? What key?"

He turns away and returns to his throne, slowly sitting; and repeats his former phrase, "I do not know."

But he does. He holds a mask close to his face, disguising his knowledge from those who seek it. At such a ripe old age, he has heard every legend and every tale to have spawned from every culture and every kingdom. Although old, he is not stupid or senile, let alone weak and defenceless. He has seen things that no one can fathom. He has seen things that he wants to forget. He has seen the demise of one empire and the rise of another, just across the waters.

The fall of Jinpachi Mishima, and the rise of his son. Something he always knew would happen, but… not like _this._

The great Emperor was struck down by a green monster, and he was there when it happened. Mighty wings, stretching so far; and he too looked for a key. A beast of similar make, yet the same inner hatred and darkness, Jinrei knew that this thing, like the humanoid only moments before, was searching for the same thing. The beast did not believe Jinpachi when he said that he did not have one, and with a mighty inhalation of breath, he spat out roaring flames to the waiting man, who humbly accepted his lonely death, without his wife by his side.

Rumour has it that six keys are scattered across the Earth. Keys of diamond, only for the corresponding diamond shackles, which are used to hold back a monster that was far more sinister than the one who had destroyed Jinpachi Mishima himself. He has never seen such a thing, but he does not deny their existence, believing in the rumours as though they were words from God himself. In every culture and every kingdom, the same story is buried deep within; and if through his brown eyes, he sees such information pass through with the same strength and continuity… then surely it is fact.

Assuming it _is_ fact, how many have the monster's servants found now? Three? Four?

How long until Armageddon was unleashed upon the unsuspecting world?

"Emperor Wang?" one of the bodyguards sounds, furrowing his eyebrows with concern. His blue outfit gleams, shining underneath the hints of sunlight; as he subconsciously fiddles with his orange sash, which is tight around his waist, "Are you well? You are awfully silent, like the dead of night."

He turns to look to him and nods slightly, "I am well, Lei… I am well."

The other bodyguard, in his red clothing, speaks as well, "Do you require a nurse?"

He smiles slightly, "No Feng. Please, everyone, relax. You may return to your former duties and businesses."

The two stiffly bow, and walk back to their posts. The third bodyguard, a large, female panda, wanders back over to Xiaoyu, her head bowed, still somewhat shocked by the events that had previously transpired. Xiaoyu watches as her friend lumbers over, and extends her hand, moving to pat the creature and scratch her behind the ears. She too is still in shock by the events. She was casually speaking with her grandfather when, without warning, the beast ripped through the very roof with ease.

Silence holds the room for a good five minutes, before the young princess speaks, "What do you think it was? A devil?"

Jinrei leans back in his throne and crosses one leg over the other, "A man."

* * *

"Very good, just…" Jin raises the boy's arm slightly, so the sword is pointing directly at his own throat, "There."

The boy is barely a teenager, but he wants to fight for Korea, and nobody will stop him. He will absorb the knowledge of the Japanese man and his friend at all costs… even if that means he has to stand on his toes to have his weapon point at his opponent's throat. With a firm grin, he lurches forward slightly, feigning a horizontal slash, as though to slice open Kazama's throat, "Heeeyaaah!"

The prince leans back and chuckles, "Easy there! Save that for your enemy."

The boy laughs slightly, before lowering his weapon entirely. Holding it in both of his hands, he looks to his temporary teacher, before speaking and thereafter turning away, "Thanks for teaching me! I should get going now, before my Father gets angry with me. See you later, and thank you very much. May you be protected from the evils to come."

He smiles slightly, watching the boy leave, but furrows his eyebrows at his departing statement. Perhaps he can feel the impending doom too. Well, whatever was going on… he had to stop it. And it starts with driving the Japanese out of this land. It starts with stopping Heihachi, showing him that just because it is a small country does not mean it is a weak, frail and helpless one. However, what to do after that, he does not know.

But he has a rough idea.

He turns from the site, looking down to the ground, his hands locked firmly behind his back. His next move, with or without Hwoarang, is to track down Unknown. Within the few hours that had passed, he found himself obsessing over her, right down to the smallest details. He doesn't know why, but… he just does. Facing an enemy like that… he shouldn't feel so safe. He shouldn't feel like he knows the enemy from the inside out. But with such a strong feeling surging within his heart… he has to find out more.

She may be unknown. She may be an enigma to those she comes across, to the world…

…but he will rearrange the pieces so that she is identified again.

No matter the cost.

"Kazama?"

His head snaps up, "Yes?"

Hwoarang quirks an eyebrow and briefly looks over his shoulder, before facing his accomplice once again, "We're done here."

He nods slightly, "To Seongnam?"

"Y-yeah," he replies, "At dawn. To Seongnam."


	8. VIII

Author's Note: Oh no, she's back! Lol. As always, thank you for your support guys, it means a lot to me :)

* * *

_**VIII.**_

He's a nervous wreck by the time the sun is seen peeking over the horizon.

He tries to keep it under control, but is failing with every moment that goes by. He sits atop Baek, holding the reigns as though they are his very lifeline, and avoids the relentless glances of his fellow fighter. They're not even close to the town yet, and Hwoarang is already breaking down at the very thought of returning to the origin of his undoing. He's beyond reluctant. He's beyond 'not wanting' to go. He's beyond apprehensive and unsure.

He's scared.

Swallowing, Hwoarang follows after Jin, his hands shaking. He could hear and see the events of the past again, and they constantly flow back and forth, as though they are happening to him again. He tries hard to stomach the pain and the anxiety he's feeling, and it feels as though he's sweating all of the water out of his body, and as though he's going to throw up at any moment. Repressing a sigh, he catches Jin looking at him again. He feigns a smile before focusing ahead of himself once more.

And he sees the wooden sign, with the black Hangul lettering branded upon it.

'_Seongnam, 1000 pyeong north.'_

He spurs Baek on a little, riding past the sign and past Jin at a faster pace. He is soon ahead of his counterpart, but then realises that by moving faster, he is getting closer to the very place he's spent the last seven years running from. The very notion sends chills down his spine, and he pulls Baek to a halt immediately and looks down, shaking in the saddle. He takes to slow breathing, in and out; and thereafter looks to Jin from the corner of his eyes, because he knows he's going to say something.

The Japanese man reaches out a hand, hoping to comfortingly touch his shoulder, "Hey…"

Hwoarang moves away immediately, moving forward again.

Jin stops and stares as he continues to move. He speaks, "It's okay to be scared."

The Blood Talon is silent.

* * *

Jin is silent.

He dismounts Flare, as Hwoarang did to his own steed before him in the stables; and follows the Korean down the main street. He knows the man before him is alive, but from where he is, he can barely see him breathing. His body is as rigid as a tree, and his face is completely unreadable and emotionless. He is worried, but he does his best to hide it, because he shouldn't be.

The pirate had to face this at one time or another.

Hwoarang's amber eyes survey the area. It is the same as it had been in his youth, however there are some houses and shops missing, still being constructed. The skeletons and wooden frames of these buildings stand, but the flesh of the building itself, the walls, are not there yet. He continues to walk, looking where a butcher shop once was. Its land is still empty.

In his aimless but precise and seemingly natural wanderings, both twenty-two-year-olds gravitate to the town square. Like the many villages they had visited beforehand, it is bustling with life. Merchants trade, visitors observe and children play. There aren't as many people as there used to be, though. He assumes that a majority of them were killed or moved to a different town to try and avoid such a disaster from ever occurring again.

…If he had avoided this place… then those who had the faith to stay would have fallen like those seven years ago.

But he's here now. He can change that. And he _will._

He stops just inside the plaza, and watches a group of four children run around. Three would run from one, and if the lone runner taps another on the shoulder, then the recently tapped youth would be chasing his or her prey. It is a game he was familiar with when he was young, when he was the one laughing and carrying on in his fun, with Baek watching gleefully, as though there was no tomorrow.

…As though there was no tomorrow. But what did he know then? _Nothing._

"_An illusion is only sweet for as long as you believe it."_

He inhales sharply. Baek's words are so strong to him now, being _here. _His memories are normally like the foggy horizon upon the lashing seas. He would try to squint, try to watch them formulate together, but to no avail. But now that he is on land, let alone at the origin of his Father's demise, as well as his own unravelling; the words are crystal clear, as though they are being said to him once again.

"Jin…" he says.

The Prince notices that he has said his first name as opposed to his surname. He does not press, and merely replies, "Yes?"

He hesitates and looks at him in the eye, "It… It hurts…"

He nods slightly, "Its okay."

Hwoarang turns away and rubs his arm bare up hurriedly, walking forward again. The children run past him, and he doesn't have the heart to watch them go. His steps are small and hesitant, and he thinks, _I'm not sure I can do this…_

A sudden scream rises through the air, and he is seemingly paralysed, petrified. The memories flare up again, like fire; and he knows that they're screams of pain and fear. It feels as though his feet are lodged in quick sand, or in mud – he cannot move, let alone turn around to see what the commotion is about. He thinks he already knows regardless, and his stomach twists and turns fiercely.

He hears Jin unsheathe his katana and swear under his breath, and in that instant, his suspicions are confirmed and his limbs find life again. With a heavy hand, he grabs his golden dao, and turns around, seeing the Japanese Prince lurching forward into the awaiting battle. The civilians before him part and return to their homes, hoping for safety; and the men move forward, just as he does.

And as he moves, he sees the shining armour, and like a wave, the Japanese men pour through.

Hwoarang tightly shuts his eyes, cries out and releases a blind, horizontal slash at his opponents.

_I won't let it happen again. I _won't _let it happen again! _

He opens his eyes…

_They will _not _take Seongnam!_

…and he loses his breath, staring face to face with not a man, but a skeleton.

Eyes widening and mouth slightly agape, he sidesteps, avoiding a vertical slash from the skeleton's katana. Bewildered and confused, he hurriedly glances at Jin, who is in the same state. A second skeleton lashes out at him, successfully managing a painful, inclining gash upon his arm. Ducking under a third attack, he takes to his natural footwork, if only for a moment, and sweeps the pair off of their feet with his leg. Once they were down, he moved to behead them, as though they were living men.

The blade moves through the bone, hacking with ease, and their skulls fall to the ground. But as the skulls fall, the rest of their bodies rise again and continue their onslaught, being forever relentless in their attacks. More skeletons come, ganging up upon the pirate, and they know that elsewhere, Jin and the other fighters are being overwhelmed the same way. Above the roars of their fleshy foes, they dominate.

Panic boils through his body, rising up. Hwoarang defends their blows as quickly as he can, both with the dao and with his hands. His mind is running a mile a minute, as he tries to think of a way to defeat the creatures and banish them back to wherever they came from. To kill a man, one must either behead him, stab him in the heart, or inflict such great damage on him that he would then bleed to death.

The most proficient and effective method failed earlier.

Growling in frustration, he brings down the dao again, severing the skeleton in two.

The two parts fall ground, kicking up dust. He expects them to move, but they lie entirely still.

Gathering his voice and raising his dao, he calls, "Cut them in half!"

Jin hears him and obeys his suggestions, knowing that in such a desperate situation, he would not lie. The skeleton before him grabs his katana and swings it downward with force. The very force itself throws him off balance, and his body moves towards the ground. With a lightning fast motion, the Prince slices up the waist of the skeleton, and they fall apart and to the ground, never to move again.

He steps to the side, avoiding another three slices, and swiftly, he spins in a small circle, cutting the three perpetrators in half as well. As he continues to defend himself, many questions plague his mind. Why were they _skeletons? _Where did they come from? Why were they wearing Japanese armour? Why were they fighting? What exactly was going on?

He takes a wayward glance down the river of opponents, and hovering in the air near the back, he sees her.

"You…" he murmurs.

Her hands are flowing freely by her sides. Unknown is poised in mid air, her soulless, yellow eyes flickering here and there, monitoring the battle. Her gaze is currently on Hwoarang, and she watches him closely. A large, gust of wind bursts through, making her hair billow – and in this instance, Jin swears he recognises her, let alone can see her musings on the pirate's valour and determination.

She is a memory, dancing in the middle of his mind; and a name he cannot grasp again.

_I have to get closer, _he thinks, dodging a fierce punch. He counters by hurling the hilt of his katana into the skull of his attacker. The force causes the bone to shatter. He acts swiftly again, and slices the skeleton in half, ignoring it as it crumbles into a heap at his feet. Leaping over the fallen bodies thus far, he moves towards her, his brown eyes still focused on her. He receives a few injuries on the way, but he ploughs through the skeletons, helping the Koreans.

As he moves, he is unaware of the skeletons following him, aiming to kill him, for he is too engrossed with Unknown.

Unknown, however, notices the approaching Japanese youth, as well as the beasts behind him. An instinct she has not felt for so, so long, overrides her system and blocks out what she, in her new state, has been programmed to do. Swiftly, she raises her right hand. Her fingers are slightly curled, and in an instant, she stretches them, a purple mist surrounding them. The action causes the particular skeletons that are chasing after Jin, that she herself brought to Seongnam, to collapse to the ground, rendered useless and dead.

Jin still doesn't notice. He continues forward, just avoiding a katana to his throat. Weaving and bobbing throughout the road, he gets closer and closer and closer to Unknown. He can see the purple sludge slide all over her body, and he briefly wonders exactly what it is. But what is more important is him knowing who she is. Not her alias, but her aura, the feeling he gets because of her. What he feels and why.

Unknown smiles softly, and slightly turns towards him, bringing her formerly extended arm close to her body. Her other arm raises, and acts parallel to her right hand in its movements. She closes her eyes, the smile no longer on her face, and swiftly throws her arms out. The wind changes, blowing from behind her, and she murmurs, "Forgive me, Jin."

He staggers, moving to the side as a skeleton rushes forward, and looks up at Unknown with wide eyes.

Suddenly, a large, greyish, purple wolf fades into the picture. He's running on the air, coming up from behind her, and in an instant, he jumps through her, becoming real; and lands a few feet in front of him, crushing several skeletons. He charges forward, snarling continuously, and saliva coats his pointy, white teeth. His fierce, yellow eyes pierce the samurai, and he lunges out with an angry howl, his teeth snapping at Jin's small body.

Stunned by the sudden appearance of this beast, Jin raises his katana, defending himself from the blow. The beast's jaw locks around the weapon. He glares back at the creature, the glowing eyes not deterring him. The saliva seeps onto the sword, and the youth raises his foot and with difficulty, pushes the wolf off of him and his weapon from the shoulder. Slipping into stance, he takes a hurried look at where Unknown is hovering.

She is gone.

The wolf pounces.


	9. IX

Author's Note: Sorry for the delayed update, stuff's been happening on my end, including a bout of writer's block. But it's OKAY! It's gone now. I hope. XD Regardless, here's a new chapter. Thanks for your support as always, guys!

* * *

_**IX.**_

He swerves to the side, narrowly avoiding another swiping strike. Jin ducks again as the wolf's large paw thunders down, its razor sharp claws narrowly missing its mark. A growling bite clamps around Jin's shoulder, and he cries out in pain, feeling the puncturing teeth sink in the gaps of his armour. He struggles to break free, but to no avail, and he resorts to slashing the beast on its nose, drawing blood.

That only spurs the creature on more, aggravating it, causing it to bite harder. He can feel the world spinning around him, and he wonders if he is going to lose his arm. He can feel his knees buckling from the pressure, and he can hear Hwoarang calling out his name, though he cannot see the blur of the man running towards him, hoping to set him free by some means.

The ground below his feet has disappeared. He looks down hazily, wondering what is going on; and soon enough, he feels incredibly dizzy, as the wolf shakes his prey around, thereafter hurling him into a nearby building. The Japanese man crashes through the wood, and he can only manage a low groan of pain as he feels the wood give way behind his back. He tries to sit up thereafter, but cannot find the strength to. He inhales sharply, hearing the wolf's footsteps come closer and closer to him.

He can hear him sniffing, trying to find his chew toy.

Hwoarang continues to run, coming closer and closer to the giant beast. He knows he can't fight him on his own, but he's going to do his best to try and keep it away from Jin until he's on his feet. He dodges a slash by a skeleton soldier, and jumps over the fallen bodies of his fellow Koreans. He doesn't quite know why he's doing this, or when he even considered Jin somewhat of an acquaintance, but he knows that _without _him, Korea will fall.

He knows too much to die now.

He's closing in on him, just like the wolf is closing in on the samurai, and he tightens his grip on his dao, ready to attack – but he doesn't know where yet. The tail? His legs? His stomach? His shoulders? His neck? There are so many possibilities, and he doesn't know which to choose as a _distraction _as opposed to a _kill. _He's not even sure if his attack will do anything, but he has to try.

He jumps to the side, avoiding the swish of the tail, and its here he decides to try to cut off his tail and injure one of his legs. Panic swims throughout his system as the beast's yellow eyes narrow, presumably having found his prey lying idly in the destroyed building. Inhaling sharply, he dodges various slices from the skeleton soldiers, and brings his weapon down on the wolf's tail, forcing it through the flesh and the bone, cutting it in half.

The wolf screams and rears its head in agony, stepping backwards. Blood drools from the wound, splashing on the ground in its masses. Hwoarang sidesteps the swaying beast and hurriedly moves to its right hind-leg, aiming for its Achilles' tendon. He ducks low and slices it open, watching as more blood falls, and as the beast howls once again. He turns, shaking and still in pain, and its yellow eyes glare daggers at the perpetrator.

It moves, aiming to hit the foe with its shorter tail.

It misses.

It moves again, turning wholly, swiftly moving a front leg to strike him.

It misses again.

It runs towards him, hoping to bowl him down.

It misses again.

It lunges forward in an attempt to bite him.

It misses again, and it watches as Hwoarang runs behind him, going towards Jin. It goes to follow, but it is stopped by a massing number of opponents, all poking and prodding it with various weapons. It cannot run away from this, and so it decides to focus on these people for now. There is more strength in numbers than there is in skills in this situation, and with a mighty growl, it lunges at them, with the support of the skeleton soldiers.

"Kazama!" the Blood Talon yells, looking amongst the rubble. He still holds his dao as he moves away the former pieces of this home. With difficulty, he lifts a support beam and throws it behind him, creating a little more mobility for the other pieces. Biting a lip, he continues sifting through the remains, and soon enough, he comes across a hand, trying to move the rubble away so it can be seen.

He lunges for the area and starts moving the wood away, watching as more and more of the Prince's form is seen. He moves away the bigger pieces, tossing them this way and that, until he is confident that by just pulling on his arm, Jin will be pulled from the rubble. Grabbing his forearm with both hands, he counts to three and pulls firmly, watching as with difficulty, the man comes through. He is a complete mess, his hair going this way and that, and with a multitude of seeping cuts on his visible skin. His clothing is also torn, and his armour is crushed.

"Don't do that again," Hwoarang warns angrily, slapping him up the back of the head, "You got that?"

Jin can't hide his small grin at the 'affectionate' display, even as he bows his head from the painful hit, "Yes _sir_."

Hwoarang smirks slightly, but it fades when he realises that Jin's grin was forced. Something else aside from pain was bugging him, he realised, as they both turn their head to the beast who is slowly being subdued by the Korean men. They look to each other once again, raising their weapons, and charge at him, yelling in anger as they do so. They hack through the skeleton soldiers, ignoring the attacks that they throw their way, as well as the pains for both of them.

The wolf turns. If it could have human expressions, it would be smirking as well, as it charged towards the two fighters as well, stomping on various bodies, both with or without flesh, both alive and dead. It had one goal, just _one goal _that Unknown had bestowed upon it. Just one, and it would do it by any means it could. It can hear her saccharine, and comforting voice reverberating through its head, as it snaps at the coming swords.

"_Stop them here. Do not let them get past you."_

Jin dodges the attack, as does his counterpart. He slices at its mouth, the blade coming into contact with teeth. He pushes, fighting both the beast and the pain in his injured shoulder, and watches from the corner of his eye as Hwoarang slides underneath the head of the beast, going towards the throat, where he aimed to cut it open and have the thing die.

With a mighty heave, Kazama throws the animal off of his katana and weaves underneath it as well, rejoining the Blood Talon. The wolf growls angrily, taking a few steps back in an attempt to have its targets back before its eyes, but as it moves, both men move with it below him. It is as though they're its shadow, and it cannot avoid them.

The pair look to each other briefly, before thrusting both of their weapons into its throat at the same point, just behind the jaw, and pull in opposite directions, ignoring the piercing howl of the animal above. Blood cascades from the wound, like a river, and it pools below the wolf. His legs shudder, starting to give way. Hwoarang and Jin finally rip out their swords and continue in their directions, determined not to be crushed beneath the animal's bulk.

The wolf collapses, dead. Dust rises from the fall, blanketing the surrounding area, choking the air with its particles. Hwoarang exhales firmly, glad that the task is over. His head shoots to his right, watching as the remaining skeleton soldiers evacuate Seongnam, being chased away by his kinsmen. He smiles wholeheartedly, glad to have avoided another grand scale tragedy, but still saddened that his homecoming is tainted with death and destruction.

One of the villagers standing by points at the wolf, "Look!"

Hwoarang panics for a moment, slipping into stance again, tightening his grip on his golden dao; but what he sees isn't what he expected. He lowers his guard entirely, sheathing his weapon, and watches as the wolf fades. Purple streams ascend to the sky, twirling as they leave, fading all the while. It is as though the wolf's body is being pulled apart thread by thread, until there is nothing left. Even the severed tail ascends in wisps. He watches as the wolf as a whole vanishes, having failed is purpose, no longer needed.

_How… magical, _he thinks.

He looks back to the ground, surprised to see that the blood is gone also. His eyes scan across the bodies before him, until he comes to a familiar form lying on the ground, weapon by his side. He squints for a moment, and bites his lip thereafter, running to Jin, who is on his back and obviously in a tremendous amount of pain, that of which is originating from his shoulder. He is obviously lying down to alleviate the pain.

The distance is met, and he drops to his knees, trying to remove the armour so he can get a better look at it. Jin does not resist, for he wants the pain to go away as quickly as possible. The pirate slowly sides off the man's shoulder guard. He ignores the blood on his fingers, shuddering slightly at the feel of the liquid, and rips the dark red clothing open further, seeing the puncture wounds ooze blood. He winces, unable to imagine the scale of the pain, and continues tearing the clothing a bit more to see another injury. He stops thereafter, realising that the man was sobbing. He remarks firmly, "Don't cry. I'm sure it hurts but it'll get better."

Jin turns his face away, "That's not why I am crying, Hwoarang… That's not why…"

He furrows his eyebrows, "Then why?"

He is moved out of the way. He stumbles to his feet, realising that other people from the village have poured out. The resident doctor instructs them to pick him up carefully, along with any other wounded men, and take them back to his house, where he will look after them. Hwoarang stands there, watching as Jin is taken away. He bends down and picks up the katana that they had left behind, holding it tightly by the hilt, only to see the Japanese youth look over his shoulder, shaking his head, quivering with pain of a different kind – despair.

"Unknown is my Mother."


	10. X

Author's Note: We're coming to the end of the first part of this story :P Not the "end" of the story, just the end of this arc, or this part of it. I've set the story into a few separate arcs that are all connected (i.e. I HAVE A DRAFT OUTLINE NOW! OMG! XD). But yeah. You'll see soon :P Again, thanks for your support guys, I really appreciate it.

* * *

_**X.**_

Hwoarang stands in the village square, alone. He stares straight ahead at where the carnage had been only hours ago, and the cold air bites at his skin, causing an involuntary chill to rupture throughout his body. He breathes in and out firmly, rubbing one of his arms in an attempt to warm himself further, and rests his head against the wall he is leaning against.

"_Unknown is my Mother."_

Jin's face was wracked with many types of pain, and the Korean understands why. After so, so long, he had found his Mother, alive and well, after the raid on his home in Okinawa… on the wrong side. She didn't stay in Japan, she came here, to Korea. He doesn't know her, but he's pretty sure that when she was still with Jin, she wasn't covered in purple sludge, nor did she have yellow eyes, nor did she have a mark on her arm; nor was she sending various enemies to fight him. That's the first thing that pained the Prince, one of many.

She is fighting _against _her son.

She is fighting _for_ Korea's demise_._

_Or is the picture so much bigger than that? _he muses. He twists Jin's katana around in his hand, hearing the blade screech slightly as it turns upon the stone. His other hand rests firmly in his pocket, occasionally drumming against his leg. The answer to this enigma of a woman, whether her name is _Jun Kazama _or _Unknown, _as she likes going by these days, could not be that simple to answer. There is just no way that it is so damn _simple… _He is sure that there's more.

The way that Jin described her made her seem like a goddess. Like how he imagined… a Mother would be. But Hwoarang doesn't know, and he never would. His Mother died bringing him into the world. He would look to other mothers in his youth, and not understand at all. Still, he knew a nice woman when he saw one – or in this case, listened to the tales of her life via her son. And she is fighting for bloodshed now?

He thinks for a moment. She has never directly stated that she was _for _the Japanese invasion. She has never sent her scarabs or her cobras or her wolves after them in the name of Heihachi Mishima. She sent the skeletal remains of Japanese soldiers, but perhaps that is a consequence of supernatural summoning powers? She _clearly _possesses paranormal talent, one would be a fool to not realise this.

Past encounters flood his head.

"_Your quest will lead you to a greater evil than you anticipate. You think that the end of the line is Emperor Heihachi, but no, there are more beyond him, and they are far more sinister."_

To a greater evil? More beyond Heihachi?

"_He seeks something."_

Heihachi is looking for something… but for what?

"_I will see to it that you do _not _get past me or his other servants… That you will _not _reach the end of the line to meet death."_

He stops for a moment. Other servants? That means that there's more than just Unknown, and each may have the same capabilities as she does… Hwoarang bites his lip, worried. Who else would there be? Who else do they have to go through to get to this… evil? To this evil that is greater than the foreign devils that currently tread his land? And if they do get past these servants, what is the great evil they will encounter that will kill them?

"…_you will not be able to take him down, no matter how hard you try, and no matter how hard I hope."_

The last part of the sentence has him stop again. He breathes out firmly and closes his eyes, remembering himself in that situation. He remembers feeling angry at her, after all she had sent out opponents. He remembers being tired and sore. He remembers that he was having difficulty breathing, for he had been previously _choked _by the woman, albeit by magical means. She did not care for him at all, and he's fine with that. But he remembers feeling suspicious. He remembers quirking an eyebrow at the last sentence.

The Blood Talon opens his eyes, and the images of his past wither away, _Okay, so she's fighting for a third party._

What could this party be? She acts independently of Japan and Korea. She is not in it for the war, nor is she in it for the land. Her quest is different, it is completely different, and he doesn't know what it could be. She is trying to lead them _away _from a monster. If he and Jin continue down this pathway, defying her, then he's sure that they will come into contact with the beast… but is that what they want?

Is there a greater threat to Korea? To the _world?_

If there is, Unknown is trying to deter them. She is trying to deter _Jin _from the evil, by any means possible. A flood of scarabs and cobras, aimed only for the two of them travelling between cities. The army of skeleton soldiers, _intended _only for them – _for her son – _but as a consequence, Seongnam suffered again. What else would there be in the future, and for how long? Until Jin swore he would not continue on this journey? Until he has been so wounded that he _can't?_

_She's trying to protect him._

And in trying to protect her son, she dooms his kinsmen, and maybe even every other human being in existence. In trying to protect her son from this greater evil, she is essentially damning him to death. He would die without even having a chance to fight. She paves the way for this evil and tries to make her son submit, so that he is not tortured or killed… so he doesn't challenge whoever, or _what_ever, will rule this Earth. He doesn't know Jin like the back of his hand, but he's still pretty sure that if this thing did take over the world, he would be fighting against it.

And Jin knows this.

If he is to fight for what he believes in, if he is to fight to survive, and to help others… he must overcome such obstacles. He must overcome whatever Unknown throws his way, be it a wolf, or other servants of this beast, or even the woman herself. If Unknown placed herself between Jin and his goal… he would have to overcome her.

_He'd have to kill her._

Hwoarang winces at the thought. He subconsciously tightens his grip around the katana's hilt.

Jin knows that someday soon, he will have to kill his Mother.

And that is the greatest pain of all.

* * *

When Jin wakes in the doctor's house, all alone, he sees Hwoarang ascending the stairs. His eyes lock with the man's for a moment, before he forcibly turns his head away, looking out the window hurriedly, hoping that he hasn't been noticed. He sees his armour and some of his clothes sitting in the far corner, the sun shining upon the crumbled metal.

"I know you're awake," Hwoarang states flatly.

Jin looks back, seeing the Korean with his katana. He watches as he strolls over to the corner and picks up his obi, the sheath for his katana, and places the weapon in it. He thereafter places it back on the floor, lying perfectly adjacent to the wall. He watches as his counterpart turns around, resting his back against the wall. He pushes his blue bandana up, the action causing his crimson, sleeveless shirt to ride up a little.

Silence holds them. Both wish to speak, but neither want to make the first move. How will they break the silence? Small talk? Or would they cut straight to the point? Would Jin repeat his words from yesterday, or would Hwoarang remind him? Would the Japanese man be able to talk back in either case? He is so shaken… He is so shaken.

"How're you feeling?" the Blood Talon asks, breaking the silence.

Jin looks out the window again, sighing, "It feels like I have been ripped apart… both in body and in mind."

A small, sympathetic smile arises on Hwoarang's face, but he knows it does nothing and that it means nothing. He pushes himself off of the wall and stands before the window, gazing out at Seongnam. It has changed since he was last here, and for the better. Strangely enough, some of the people here recognised him from when he was younger, though he did not recognise anybody here, because he has run away from this place and these memories for the past few years.

"If you were in my shoes…" the Prince begins, almost choking on his words, "what would you do, Hwoarang?"

"I'd do what I thought was best for everyone. I'm not as selfish as I make myself out to be. You know now it was only to defend myself."

"So, if you were in my shoes, and it was _your Father _as opposed to my Mother… _Baek _as opposed to Jun, you would do it?"

He hesitates, and it is noticeable. He's not sure himself.

Jin sits up entirely, leaning forward, ignoring the pain, too eager for an answer, "You would kill him?"

"Yes."

Kazama sighs and rests his head in his hands. He was hoping that he'd say no, "But he was your Father…"

The Korean strolls over to the Prince, hands in his pockets, and looks down at him sympathetically. He'd be in the same shoes if their positions had changed. He'd be devastated, and he'd be seeking emotional guidance, just like Jin is. Although his choice for guidance is strange, Hwoarang still wants to try and help out. He can't imagine the confusion, but he can imagine the pain.

Breathing out, he sits on the edge of the bed, hands now drumming along his knees. He looks to the man who is grieving for the future. After some silence, he carefully chooses his words, painting a reason, "I wouldn't kill Baek because I _wanted _to, nor because I _had _to… I'd kill him because _he'd want _me to. _He'd want _me to kill him, if it meant saving others. _He'd want _me to kill him, if it ended his suffering.

"I think your Mother would have the same thinking. I'm sure of it. But, no one knows her better than you do so, you can be the judge of that. But think about it… she's suffering. She said that she would stop you, no matter the cost, with every bone in her 'cursed' body. Remember that? She's fighting us because she wants to _protect you. _Not because she wants the Japanese to succeed in taking over Korea, there's so much more to it than that. There's so much more to this that we don't understand yet.

"And like she mentioned, she's cursed. Maybe she's fighting against us not only to protect you, but because she's being _made _to by this curse or whatever. Maybe she doesn't want to, maybe she wants to be freed. Will you not give that to her? Will you not end her suffering, and therefore save others? I know it's gonna be hard but… just… try to. That's all you can do. Just _try. _And although it's gonna hurt… I'm still here for you, okay? We're in this together, until the very end."

Jin turns his head away and looks out the window again, a frown on his face.


	11. XI

Author's Note: Hehe… hey guys. I feel really bad for leaving this one alone. But here's a chapter to make up for it :3 Exactly ONE YEAR after I posted the first chapter XDXDXDXD. Wow. Time flew by, fast o.o Big thanks to _Temptation Of Lacuna, _for R&Ring most of my stuff. I'm glad you're enjoying my stories. But on with the chapter.

* * *

_**XI.**_

Both men are still pained once they reach Seoul. Tired and thirsty, they want nothing more than to stop and rest, but they know they can't. Jin wants to know where and how Hwoarang will get to the leader of Korea, the authorities, especially seeing as he is a pirate, scum of the ocean. He shakes his head as the Korean paces back and forth, thinking on this for himself, but he knows that he himself cannot contact the authorities.

And then he gets an idea. He looks to the Japanese man with a slight smirk and says, "They'd listen to you, you're the prince of Japan after all. They'd be stupid not to, I mean, look at you, you've even got this whole 'prince' thing going on in your appearance. The armour of the Korean Army doesn't look like yours does."

"Not that there is much of my armour left," Jin states flatly, gesturing to his crumpled shoulder guards. He thereafter shakes his head, his hands in his lap. He's sitting cross-legged on the ground, "But Hwoarang, they could see me as a diversion, so the others could come along and destroy the army whilst they listen to me. They will not heed my warning, there is no way that they would. We have to try and think of something else. What else could you do?"

"I don't know," he replies, "I just…" he looks up, "He'd listen to his people, but…"

"Make way! Make way!"

Hwoarang skitters backwards, now standing beside the seated Jin, and watches as a woman who is only about his age is led through the crowds of people. She is hobbling towards the main square, where the hustle and bustle of his kinsmen cease upon the sight of her. She has lost some of her fingers, an eye, and has numerous gashes upon her body, and arrow protruding from her side. The bloody stumps that were once her fingers are reaching out for help, and he doesn't have the heart to do anything, because he wants to know what's happened.

She's raving madly, coughing up fits of blood, "The Emperor… Where's the Emperor? I must see him… I…"

A nearby General walks onto the scene, watching the woman fall to her knees. She is dying at a rapid rate, and they all know it. The General is now standing directly before her, and he asks, "What happened to you, woman? Who did this?"

She looks up, her bottom lip bleeding and torn, "Invaders… from the south across the sea. The Japanese… They're coming…"

It's the last thing she says, because she slumps to the floor, her eyes open wide and unblinking. The General looks to his soldiers, seeing that same worry on their faces. He looks amongst the crowd that gathered, and he asks, "Does anybody else know of this? Was this woman speaking the truth, or was she just delirious during her death?"

Jin, who was shaken by the sight, spoke up, "It's true."

The General strolls over to him. He cannot see his face because his head is hung low, "Is it _really?_"

Hwoarang answers, "They sailed from their lands and arrived at Busan. From there, they moved to Gimhae and continued inland. They've been going to other major towns and killing everyone in sight, taking the city as their own, using _our crops _to feed their armies and so on and so forth. Japan is invading Korea, and unless you go to the Emperor, because he'll listen to his soldiers instead of a _pirate,_" he gestures to himself, "and a Japanese samurai, who happens to be _their_ _Prince,_" he gestures to Kazama, "Korea is doomed."

The General tries to look at Jin in the face, "The heir… It is you?"

He looks up, eyes hard and narrowed, angry at what his country is doing, "Yes. I am Prince Jin Kazama, son of the deceased Kazuya Mishima, grandson of Emperor Heihachi Mishima. I ran away from the armies, because I cannot stand what they are doing. We came from Busan, together, and have since travelled to major towns to prepare them for the wave that is coming. Some have run away, others have learnt to fight… And they spread the word to the smaller towns. Our goal was to get to Seoul, and now, we are here. My Grandfather… is a corrupt, twisted old man who has no sense left in his rotting mind. He does not want to just take Korea, he wants the world at his fingertips… and you are the playing field for his soldiers. You _need _to stop him."

The General is panicking now, as are the others Koreans. He looks to Hwoarang, "Where were they last?"

"We last encountered their living soldiers at Gimhae a few months back. I don't know how far they've come since then. There's another problem, though. There's magic afoot, a woman with glowing yellow eyes and a phantom wolf. She has been following us since Gimhae, and every step of the way, she's tried to stop us from getting here. In… in Seongnam… which is where we last were… She had Japanese skeletal soldiers, somehow. We managed to defeat them, but… They are closer than Japan actually is. If they were at Seongnam, which is the neighbouring village, then… they will be here soon."

Shrieking got their attention. Jin quickly looks to the origin, and he grabs his katana, his features turning into an unhappy, worrisome frown, "The undead are here. Mobilise your men, and make sure you tell _all of them _that the _only way _to kill them is to cleave their bodies in half. Just… get the women and children out of here. And you must tell your King to prepare his other soldiers for the Japanese, once they arrive."

Hwoarang is already ahead of him, golden dao at the ready, slicing diagonally, pushing the first of the skeleton soldiers back. The men and the soldiers are following him now, Jin amidst the crowd, and soon enough, the battle sweeps through the alleyways and the roads of Seoul, like a wave. But it is a silent wave, because through all the clashing, screaming, yelling and dying, his eyes are focusing on the woman walking through the destruction. Men, alive or dead, part so she can get through, and she is staring directly at him, her long fingertips drifting along her sides as she walks.

Hwoarang is knocked to the ground. He watches as the skeleton soldier he was fighting comes down on him, ready to slice his throat – and lands on his golden dao, which is now sticking up through what would've been his stomach. With a mighty heave, he rips it sideways, halving the body, and as he stands to his feet, he looks for Jin, who he now sees with a lowered katana, the carnage swirling around him like a tornado. Nobody is touching him, and nobody is touching the approaching Unknown.

Unknown speaks, now a few feet away from the Japanese youth. She stops walking, "Have you not learnt your lesson yet?"

"Mothers are supposed to help their children…" Jin murmurs, "not harm them."

She smiles, and it's not out of glee, "I am glad you have figured it out, my son."

"Where did you go…?" he asks, "You left Asuka and I alone… What about Father?"

She shakes her head, "I cannot say, and in due time, you will find out why. I promise…" With a heavy heart, she slips into stance, her fists clenched, opposing her flesh and blood, "And it is for your sake that I must stop you. You can't keep going Jin, you're not strong enough to overcome what is on the other side. I will not have you murdered by the ancient evil."

"And I will not go down without a chance to fight for what I believe in!"

He brings down his katana, going to slash her in the shoulder, but he misses entirely, for she has sidestepped. Tears are blurring his vision, because he cannot believe he has to do this. He turns his head to the right, seeing Unknown spin in a small circle, her right hand lowered but raising itself and pushing forward. From the ground, a stream of scarabs fly up, filling his vision. The sound is overbearing, and he shields his eyes with one hand and blindly slashes them away, hearing some of them fall to the ground, but not all of them.

He is struck firmly in the stomach, winding him entirely. He buckles forward, gasping for air, and the next thing he knows, two fists slam into his back, sending him face first into the dirt. He rolls out of the way so he does not cop any coming attack, and when he hears a foot slam into the ground near his head, he is glad he did. He stands to his feet, battering away the scarabs that have seemingly thinned out. He can now see, and Unknown approaches again, spinning again, hoping to have her fist land at the side of his head.

He blocks it his katana, making sure that the edge is facing her, and it cuts her hand, causing her to stagger back a little. No emotion crosses her pale face, as she backflips, smashing her feet into her son's chin. He is airborne. After that, she lands on her feet, and smashes her fist into his back, watching as he travels a few feet back in the air, only to land on the ground once again. She smiles sympathetically, before turning her head to monitor the battle, seeing that her skeleton soldiers are not faring as well this time as they were last time.

She is struck hard across the cheek with Jin's katana, causing her flesh to rip open. Blood pours out, a strange mix of red and purple, leading to a blackish colour. Jin charges again, aiming to stab Unknown in the chest, but he misses because his hands are trembling, and because she is too fast for him. Due to her move out of the way, he is left face to face with a glaring skeleton soldier, and without a second thought, he cleaves him in half. He then ducks out of instinct, and looks up, seeing his mother soar overhead, her flying kick having missed the back of his head.

And he cannot help but ask, "How did you create these Japanese skeleton soldiers?"

"I merely raised those who had fallen. If you see, they are not all wholly skeletal, some of them still have their skin and organs, but they have rotted. I have jurisdiction over the Japanese dead, because I am Japanese… and I can only summon them because I was already born with supernatural powers, if you recall the various times where I knew where a ghost was," she shakes her head, "No one else that serves the beast can do that. Nobody but me. And you should not ask questions that you will never understand."

A flurry of fists and feet greet him, and he is pushed back several feet. He is half focused, for the other half of him is wondering and searching for Hwoarang. He eventually sees him backed up into a corner, but fighting his way out of it quite successfully. His distraction costs him, as he is punched in the side of the head, causing him to stumble back again. Angry, he slices at Unknown, only to yet again have the attack miss entirely, but unlike every other time, the katana is ripped from his hands, and is now in the hands of the enemy.

Unknown smirks, "I thought Heihachi would have taught you by now not to be distracted in the heat of battle."

She lunges forward, slicing at her son. He raises his arms, the forearms blocking the strike, denting the metal armour. The attacks come more and more, and he feels the blade slice at some parts of his clothing, ripping through and tearing open his skin. He is gradually being cornered, and he doesn't know what else to do here. He needs to get in close, because he'll be able to fight by hand then, but he can't find the right opportunity to do so.

As he's moving back, he trips over a corpse and falls flat on his back. This is what she needs.

Unknown smiles sadly, now lording above her son. She grabs him by the front of his armour, her fingers curling underneath the gaps. Raising the katana over her head with the other hand, she smiles forlornly, "I never wanted to do this, Jin. Never did I want to kill you. I just wanted to stop you from getting yourself killed… But you will not stop. You are like a giant boulder, rolling down a hill. You will keep on rolling, you will keep moving until you hit the bottom…" she tightens her grip, "Consider this the bottom, Jin. I'm so sorry."

He closes his eyes, because he doesn't want to see his own mother kill him. But he doesn't feel anything.

He opens his eyes, seeing a dagger of sorts protruding from the arm she was using. Her arm was shaking with pain, and she had dropped the katana, yelling in agony. He looks around her body, seeing Hwoarang stand several feet away, having thrown the dagger that he randomly located on the ground. He mentally thanks him, though he knows the Korean will not hear it, and closing his eyes again, he rips out his own dagger, which he keeps by his side in case of emergencies. This is why he wanted to get close, so he could –

The blade cuts across her throat. She does not say anything, she can't, and her eyes are wide and her mouth open. He drags the blade down from Unknown's throat, all the way to her chest, and then rips it out, throwing the body of his mother onto the ground. He goes to pick up his fallen katana, and thereafter sheaths it. Shaking, Jin wipes the blood on his pant leg, before taking several feet back, eyes clouded with tears again. He never thought this would happen.

The distracting scarabs that she had summoned earlier in the battle faded away into nothingness. He looks around him, watching as the skeleton soldiers fall to the ground. The Koreans also stop and watch the spectacle. It is as though the soldiers were puppets, and with their strings cut, they fell, never to move or live again. _Never._

They cry out in joy, rushing to pat each other on the back and congratulate each other on destroying the first threat to arrive in Seoul – the strange, supernatural one. Hwoarang is not smiling as he approaches the Japanese man, and he has no words to say. He doesn't know how he can comfort his… 'friend'. Instead, he looks at the body that had been cut up, and he restrains from saying anything by biting his lip forcibly. He sheathes his dao and slides his thumbs between his brown belt and his dark blue pants.

Soon enough, her body starts glowing too. It starts to fade, exactly like the wolf before her had, and Jin's hands are fiercely clenched as it happens. He watches the streams ascend into the sky, unlike the scarabs and the dead, and in its place, he finds a large, diamond key, staring up at them. It is perfectly crafted, and he sees some gold on it too, albeit it is not as prominent as the diamond.

Curiously, Jin bends over and picks it up. It is heavy in his hand. He raises it, observing it twinkle in the coming sunlight, thereafter looking to Hwoarang, who is staring at it just as interestingly. Neither know what door it is for, nor where it came from, but both are sure it has ties to the ancient beast that Unknown was constantly referring to. Deciding to keep it, in case they needed it in the future, he slips it into his pocket and looks at Hwoarang in the eye, "It is done."


	12. XII

Author's Note: An update! Wooooooooo! Thank you for all your wonderful reviews, I really appreciate them :3 Love you guys!

* * *

_**XII.**_

They could not stay in Seoul very long, having been ordered to continue what they were doing to the northern half of the peninsula. The Emperor didn't let them go, though, without numerous thanks for the warning and for what they had done so far. They had been given money, a place to stay to recover from their wounds, new clothing, a better bag, and some other supplies. He sent them forth as his 'workers', and although Hwoarang didn't like being called the 'King's servant', per se, he was glad that he had helped them.

He is riding Baek, going through the mountainous regions. They had passed several towns already, and he knows there are plenty more to teach. Jin's been silent throughout the entire ordeal, only explaining the situation and techniques, sparing whatever details he could. He's still shaken up by the events that transpired about two weeks ago, and his mother's dead eyes glaring up at him continued to haunt his dreams and his reality. Every time Hwoarang tries to get him to talk about it, he is immediately shut down. He doesn't know what else to do.

They set up camp in small clearing in the forest, per Hwoarang's suggestion, because he thinks it'll help Jin clear his head. And so, he got everything ready, the blankets, the firewood and so on, and allowed the Prince to just sit and stare at the small pit he was preparing, remembering everything in minute detail. The wide eyes, the bleeding throat, the white skin, the slightly parted lips… It chills him to the bone, and he hates that he has to remember it so. He tries to look the other way, but everywhere he turns, she is still there, looking up at him with two expressions – _why _and _thank you. _But 'thank you' for what?

He turns his head again, and the image follows. Behind the image, he sees Hwoarang stroking Baek's side, and turns away when he is glanced at from the corner of those amber eyes. Defeated, he opens his mouth and speaks his mind to the only person who will listen, "How do I make this go away?"

Hwoarang strays away from their steeds and sits on the log opposite the brooding man. Poking the fire he created, he stares into it, watching the red, orange and yellow dance about and lick the air, "You're asking the wrong person, Jin…" he looks up, a tinge of sadness on his youthful face, "You're asking the wrong person."

"Surely you must know something."

He shakes his head, "I ran away from my troubles. They still haunt me. They still follow me. I still see Seongnam burning, and I still smell the searing flesh, and hate myself for not being able to do anything about it. I don't wake up screaming anymore, but… I did, for a fair while. I ran away from my past and fled to the sea, because water puts out fire and washes away _everything. _I wanted to wash away my past, and I wanted to wash away my future too. I didn't care. I lived for the 'now', but no matter how hard I tried, I was still brought back to my past in my dreams, and then in reality, through you. And… I feel better for having confronted it.

"I don't really know what I can say or do to help you, Jin, but don't run away like I did. Just don't run away, because it's not gonna get you anywhere. Not only have I fled my former life at Seongnam, I've now fled the pirate life I once had, alongside you, to help my nation. In a sense, I'm running from the distant past, and the more recent past, because I was chased out of that reality. You don't want to run from one life to the next. What happens when you run out of lives? What happens when you reach the end of the road in life?"

"You die."

He nods, "Yeah. So you're gonna run from this samurai life, and leave the royal life. What next? You could be a farmer. Then what? A jeweller. Then what? An explorer. Then what? A thief. You get my point, at one stage you're gonna end up dead because you've been chased away from something in your prince-y-samurai-y life, because you refused to confront it. Just… I dunno. Just try and accept what's happened and move on. You may have killed Unknown, but you did it for the right reasons – the reasons that _you _believe in. And in doing so, you've freed her."

Kazama pauses, taking in everything that was said. After a few moments, he nods, as though affirming his statement. He stares at the ground, a small smile on his troubled face, "Thank you. I will try and see it that way from now on, but… I still need time to grieve. She was my mother."

"I understand," the Korean hops off the log and stretches, rubbing his eyes, "Well, I'm going to sleep. We've been travelling for ages. I advise you go to sleep too, because it'll help the healing process and all."

"Yes, sleep is best," he rubs his face and stands, "Goodnight."

"Night."

* * *

He is awakened by a rustling sound. Soundlessly sighing, Jin rolls onto his side, trying to get back to the land of dreams. Soon enough, though, he hears more rustling, like an unbuckling sound, and he hears strange voices murmuring through the light wind. It's definitely a male and female's voice. He forcibly peels his eyes open, searching the area, and soon enough, beside where the fire was, he sees two people going through their bags.

_Thieves._

He is awake wholly now, and swiftly, he unsheathes his katana, which is laying by his side, and rises to his feet, pointing at the two of them. Angrily, he hisses, eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed, "Stop what you are doing."

They do, and they look towards him. The man laughs, his voice sounding desolate and stranger by the moment. He draws out his sword, and Jin is surprised to see it is also a katana. He swiftly takes in the whole of the man's form, or at least what he can make out if it in the night. He is dressed in tattered, green, gold and red clothing, and his right arm is entirely covered with a metal glove. He cannot see his face very well, as a helmet and a mask is covering it. The man places everything that he had taken into his pocket, and slips into stance, "The prosperous must decay."

The woman beside him, clad in purple and red clothing and also masked, grabs two daggers from behind her. They both hurl themselves towards Jin, the man slashing downwards and the woman going to stab at his stomach. Jin dodges and calls out to Hwoarang in the hopes of waking him up, however he is still fast asleep, no matter how loud he yells. With no other alternative, he lashes out at the man, his horizontal strike piercing the man in the side.

"Yoshimitsu!" the woman yells. In anger, she goes to attack Jin, managing to scratch him across the face.

"Stand back, Kunimitsu," the man known as Yoshimitsu hisses. She does so, and he propels himself forward, spinning in constant circles with his katana protruding out, hoping to strike Jin. It fails, however, for Jin heeded the man's warning to his accomplice, and sneaks in underneath the line of fire, stabbing him in the thigh firmly with his small dagger.

Reeling, Yoshimitsu takes several steps back, and Kunimitsu bounds forward to attack. Her strikes are quick and fluent, and she backs out every so often to allow the man to try and hit Kazama. Their target easily overpowers the woman, though, and he grabs her brown ponytail, hurling her body at the accomplice. The pair of thieves briefly look to one another, before performing several, impressive acrobatic moves, consisting of backflips and so on. Their weapons pierce Jin's skin, and he is thrown onto his rear from the attacks.

Yoshimitsu grabs Jin by the front of his shirt and lifts him up off the ground slightly. He looks to Hwoarang, who is still asleep, before turning to the man he has in his grasp, "Kunimitsu, resume the raid. I've got him here, he won't move…" The Japanese youth hisses and tries to somehow inflict harm on Yoshimitsu, but to no avail.

Kunimitsu suddenly shrieks.

He turns his head, seeing an arrow protruding from her forehead, having gone through the mask somehow. She collapses onto the ground, dead. In anger, he strikes Jin across the face with his fist, "You had more backup, didn't you? A watchman, perhaps…" He throws him back into the ground and places a foot on his stomach. He raises his katana, going to stab the twenty-two-year-old in the chest.

Another arrow whisks past him and lands in the tree next to him. Deciding that it was best if he fled, he leaps over the stunned samurai and bounds into the forest, weaving through, and eventually lost amidst the dark green leaves and brown timber, never to be seen by these travellers again.

Perplexed, Jin stands and rubs his arm. He sheaths his katana and shoves his hands down his pockets, retrieving the key that his mother had left behind. He pulls it form his pocket, and its diamond brilliance glows. Relieved that it was still there, he places it back into his pocket and goes to their bags, seeing that a lot of their gold had been removed by the two thieves. Fortunately, their supplies were still there, as were Flare and Baek, still strapped to the tree. Both the black and chestnut horse were confused as to what had just happened, looking this way and that, their ears twitching.

A heavy clip-clopping garners his attention. He places his hand on his katana's hilt again and looks towards the source of the sound. He sees a white horse easily and slowly navigate through the trees, eventually coming to the clearing. Atop the horse is a woman with a long, flowing white cape, with black lines going around the edges. There is a hood too, however it is down. She has light orange, white and black clothing on, and although the fashion of her clothing is different to what he has seen so far in Japan and Korea. Her black hair is done up in pigtails, and ends of thin, orange ribbons rain down, holding the hair in place.

He sees her bow in one hand, and in the other she is holding the horse's reigns. With a quiver on her back, he realises that this is the person who had stopped Kunimitsu and driven Yoshimitsu away. Staring up at her, he is absorbed by her porcelain face, and he eventually opens his mouth and asks with furrowed eyebrows, "Who are you?"

She smiles and bows her head a little, before sitting up taller on her steed, "I am Xiaoyu Ling."

Jin watches as she hops off of her horse, placing her bow back atop her bags of supplies. She leads her horse further into the clearing, until she is standing opposite to the man. He scratches the back of his head, "Thank you for saving me back there. I am Jin Kazama, Prince of Japan."

Her eyes seemingly brighten – "Nice to meet you," – and then drift over to the man who is lying on his stomach, red hair strewn everywhere, "Why did you not wake him to help you?"

"He sleeps like a rock," he growls, "I already tried waking him before."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Hwoarang slowly stretches out and rolls onto his back. After adjusting to the new position, he slowly opens his eyes, seeing the first signs of light stream in through the canopy, and turns his head to where Jin was previously. He sits up when he doesn't see him, and also sees the fallen body of a woman. Confused and dazed, he looks around, "Kazama?"

"Here."

His head snaps towards the man, and he sees yet another woman with a white horse. He quirks an eyebrow and surveys the area again, seeing that half of the stuff in their bags were littered on the floor. There was blood on the ground and on his male friend, not to mention the corpse of the masked woman, and still confused, he asks incredulously, "What the hell happened here?"

Xiaoyu answers for Jin, "You guys were approached by two members of the Manji Clan. They rob the rich and travellers, and give their findings to poorer people. Quite a noble cause, if it were not for the fact that they were _thieves. _Your friend here was overwhelmed by the woman and the leader of the Clan, Yoshimitsu. I killed the woman, but Yoshimitsu got away. Your friend tried to wake you but you were too deep in sleep."

"…Oh."

She turns back to Jin, smiling again, "I am so glad I have found you, Prince Kazama. Word has been spreading through Korea that you and a red-haired accomplice have been going around training villages to prepare for the oncoming Japanese invasion. You are nearing the end of the Korean border, and it is my duty to bring you into my homeland, so you may inform the Emperor and start to prepare my land too. So, please, get on your steed and ride with me."

Jin rubs his face, "There are no other towns here?"

"No. When I meant that you are nearing the Korean border, _I mean _you are nearing the Korean border. You are about a half an hour's worth of travel into the neighbouring country. Shenyang is the next town you will encounter, a few hours after crossing the border. You can teach those who are there, and we will continue to Beijing and inform the Emperor of what is coming from foreign lands. Now, come on then, let's go let's go!"

She jumps on her horse and starts to navigate north. Jin looks to Hwoarang, who is smirking, "_What?_"

He stands too, still in a sleepy daze, and mounts Baek, almost falling off the attempt. He waits until Xiaoyu is out of earshot before speaking his mind, as Jin gathers up their stuff and slings it onto his back, "She seems… _nice._"

The samurai rolls his eyes, now atop Flare, and rides, following Xiaoyu, "Oh shut up."

A goofy grin still plastered on his face, Hwoarang follows Jin, keeping a close eye on this new girl. She _seems _nice, but neither really know her. How can they know she's to be trusted? She doesn't really look like a peasant, what with the fine silk clothes and all. And exactly _what land _is she taking them to? His knowledge of the world outside of Korea is minimal, and he hopes that Jin has a better idea than he does, for both their sakes.

They leave the thick forest behind them, and soon enough, they are atop a hill, looking down at the scenery before them. The lands are plain, but beautiful, and the mountains in the distance make the area picture perfect, causing all three to stop their steeds and just _look. _Not do, not think, just look. Xiaoyu smiles widely, loving this sight more than the other two.

"Where are we?" Hwoarang finally asks.

Xiaoyu turns her head and looks at him with her beady brown eyes. Her smile morphs into a grin, and she slowly starts to go down the hill on her horse. She breaks her gaze with the Korean and looks at both of them, "Gentlemen… welcome to China."


	13. XIII

Author's Note: So happy I got this chapter out :3 And for those who were confused as to where this story was going, this is the chapter that clarifies everything ^_^ Enjoy!

* * *

_**XIII.**_

_Asuka,_

_This is Jin Kazama, your cousin, and I am writing from Seoul in Korea. If you're reading this, then by some miracle it reached you, and I am so pleased for that. Please keep this letter from Heihachi and any of his henchmen, for he will most likely inflict harm on you. I am alive and I am well. I apologise if I have frightened you by running away from the Japanese Army, but you and I both know that the Emperor's intentions are dire, and you and I both have always wanted to try and do something about it. I now have that chance, because I ran. Anything that Heihachi has said about me being dead is a __lie__._

_This injustice cannot go through. The army has taken far too many lives already, and so I fight against the men I once trained alongside. It pains me, because I know that a lot of them also do not want to follow the Emperor's scheme, however they would not run with me. I was hypothetically speaking about it with them before I indeed ran, and they all just shook their heads. They do not want to be a part of the minority, because the minority is perceived as weak, helpless and wrong. And they __believe__ it._

_When I ran, I saw a unit chasing after a redhead. He is about my build, probably a little thinner, and is quite the runner. Atop Flare, I picked him up and rode off, saving him. He is a Korean pirate – or ex-pirate, rather – who goes by the name of Hwoarang. A peculiar name, no? Fitting for such a bizarre man. He has a hot temper and is quite strong-headed, but he has a good heart. He reminds me a lot of you; you both share the same personality, really._

_But continuing with my story, Hwoarang and I did not get along very well at the start of our journey. He was brash, arrogant, rude and __very__ untrusting. He was only putting up with me to help his homeland, which I understood and did not mind. We formed a plan to go around to a few Korean towns and teach them how to defend themselves from the Japanese Army, and from there these towns would pass this information on to neighbouring towns. I knew their techniques, I even coordinated some myself when I was being tested on my leadership skills to become a Shogun – which fortunately did not happen. But I suppose, if I did become a Shogun, then I would have been able to take my unit and fight for Korea. Strange how these things happen._

_Where we are now when you reach this letter, I do not know. I also do not know where we are going. I am not an oracle. I cannot predict the future. The enigma of the man who rides beside me has been unravelled slowly since the start of our journey. The poor man lost his Father, named Baek, and his village when we attempted an invasion originally a few years ago, when you were only eleven years old. It explains why his hatred for the Japanese is so deep, let alone why he was so untrusting of me and why he was so withdrawn. With me by his side, we eventually confronted his resurrected hometown of Seongnam, which is one of the towns closest to Seoul._

_Which brings me to the entire point of this letter, aside from telling you what I have been doing and that I am alive._

_There was a woman following us from Gimhae, which is the second town we visited. She had hair that was as black as night, skin as white as snow and eyes as gold as the coins and jewellery in Heihachi's treasury. At least half of her body was covered in a thick, purple ink, as though it were her clothes. She confronted us as we rode towards Cheongju, with a phantom wolf as her only friend, standing behind us. She always had this sad face on, you know? Behind that though there was an iron will, one that would not bend to the situations going on. She wanted to do what she wanted to do._

_Her name was Unknown, and true to her name, she was mysterious indeed._

_She fought us numerous times, with her fists and with whatever she summoned. We fought the wolf twice, and he was destroyed in Seongnam. There were thousands upon thousands of strange, shiny little beetles. There were snakes, but they didn't quite look like snakes – I think the technical term for them was 'cobra'. Very pretty creature, but it had what appeared to be quite a nasty bite and it was very intimidating. The strongest of her forces, though, after the wolf, were undead soldiers. The only way to destroy them was to slice them in half… they wore __Japanese armour.__ Unknown summoned the fallen soldiers of Japan to fight against us, thinking that we could not overcome them and prevent us from reaching some form of 'unspeakable evil' that is greater than Heihachi himself. She continuously told me that she worked for 'the beast', but what this beast is, I do not know. Though I am sure it is the same as the 'unspeakable evil'._

_Hwoarang and I wondered about Unknown a lot. Why was she following us? Why did she know so much? For God's sake, she knew that I was of royal heritage, she knew about __you!__ Who was she __really__ and why was she so committed to stopping our journey? She did not fight for Korea, __that__ was obvious. But judging by the numerous little hints she would leave strewn about, she was not fighting for Japan either. She was fighting for a third party, devoted to keeping this 'unspeakable evil' safe – or rather, from keeping __me__ safe, keeping me from __it.__ And I'll be damned if I was going to let that woman stop me for fighting for what I believe in, and she knew it. But how could she have known?_

_Asuka… Unknown was Jun Kazama._

_Jun Kazama, who gave birth to me. Jun Kazama, your Aunt who took you in and raised you as her daughter. Jun Kazama, the same Mother to us both who left us during the raid on Okinawa and sent us to live in the palace with the Emperor. Here she was, alive before me, but not well. She was sick, you could see it in her eyes and by what she could do and almost did. Mother attacked us numerous times, but we engaged in battle. She knocked me down. She took my katana from my hands and was about to plunge it into my heart. If it were not for Hwoarang throwing the dagger into her arm and stopping her, I would be dead. Heihachi would be telling the truth._

_I had to kill her, Asuka. I had to kill Mother, because she knew that I would not be deterred from my path, and she knew that in her sickness, she would continuously come after me and attack me until she did kill me. She had almost killed Hwoarang on a previous encounter, and she did not want to succeed in her attempts to murder either of us. But when she died Asuka, she was looking up at me, not only with a 'why', but with a 'thank you' on her face. A __thank you__, of all things._

_A thank you for freeing her. A thank you for freeing her from whatever this illness was, a thank you for not giving up even though the task presented to me was a difficult one, a thank you for doing the right thing. She's proud of what I'm doing, and although I'm still haunted by Mother's eyes, I find comfort in knowing that in some way, I helped somebody who I cared about, instead of random Koreans. I find comfort in knowing that she's okay now. She's okay._

_When she died, she left us a diamond key. It is gorgeous, Asuka, probably the most beautiful thing I have ever laid eyes upon. There is some gold on it too. I cannot help but wonder what it is for and if there are others like it too. Hwoarang and I have kept it to ourselves for now, we didn't even mention it to the King of Korea. He was a nice man. But regardless… we'll have to just wait and see, you know? We'll have to wait and see._

_Something else has plagued my mind too. I asked Mother about Father during our battle, and she merely shook her head at me and said 'I cannot say, and in due time, you will find out why'. Does this mean he is alive too? Is he sick also? I can only wonder and hope that in my travels I find him… and I pray to God that he is not sick. _

The note is scrunched up, and a gruff, furious hiss is heard. Heihachi throws the note on the floor of Asuka's chambers.

* * *

The journey to Shengyang did not take long, nor did the preparations. The people listened to the princess wordlessly, obeying her words and listening to the suggestions and instructions of the foreigners. They were given a rather nice place to stay overnight, before going to Beijing. The journey both to and from the town didn't take very long, as most of it was eaten up by chatting.

Xiaoyu's quite the chatterbox, and it's infectious. Her bubbly nature has even gotten Jin out of his depressive state, a fact that Hwoarang is appreciative of. He's noticed the large influence that she has on him so far, and whilst he finds it amusing, he silently finds it adorable too, though he would never admit that to anybody. He's laughing, steering Baek down a hill as Jin, who had been challenged by Xiaoyu to a race to the bottom, screams on how he feels as though he's going to fall off.

He doesn't, though, and when he reaches the bottom, he fixes Xiaoyu with a glare and a smile, "Don't ever make me do that again."

She chuckles and shrugs, "We're almost there, guys."

Soon enough, they enter a large town. It's much larger than the ones they had seen in Korea and also Shengyang. Both foreigners were sure that it's larger than Seoul was. They immediately bow to Xiaoyu, who simply smiles and continues on her way, straight down the pathway that leads to her home. As she rides, Hwoarang muses on how happy the girl is. It's a rare thing to see, and he really hopes that that sunshine in her heart doesn't get smothered like his had been.

He looks around, still feeling strange being out of Korea, but stranger still in the nicer, royal clothes that the King of Korea had given him. Jin is wearing his patched up, Japanese garments as well, and the armour he wore in battle has been repaired and cleaned. Jin looks the exact same as he did when they first fought. He _himself, _however, literally looks like a servant of his homeland, and whilst he admits that the clothing looks nice and is extremely comfortable, that's not how he wants to be seen. He's just a man. He's not a boy anymore, because he grew up when he saw Seongnam again. He's not a pirate anymore, because he is far from his beloved sea.

_When this is all over, _he thinks to himself, _I just want to be remembered as Hwoarang._

Jin calls to him from over his shoulder, "Are you enjoying the royal treatment?"

"What, the bowing?"

"Yes."

He shrugs, "It feels _weird_."

Jin laughs. He turns his attention back to Xiaoyu, who has since hopped off of her white horse and given it to one of the guards. Her hands are behind her back, and she watches as the foreigners imitate her actions, both reluctant to give the reigns to the men. She chimes, "Don't worry, they'll take them to the stables, feed them, clean them and so on. Come along, now!"

"We're coming we're coming, geez," Hwoarang grumbles.

They follow quietly, standing tall and straight as they pass through the halls of the Emperor. Xiaoyu bounces through the various corridors and past the guards, stopping at the large, gold and red double doors. She spins around again and waves Jin and Hwoarang over, the former on her left and the other on her right. With a mighty huff, she throws open the double doors and enters, "Grandfather!"

Jinrei almost leaps out of his throne, "Xiao!"

She walks down and is confronted by Panda, her bodyguard. She smiles and strokes her fur, before moving closer towards the Emperor, who is now standing a few feet away from his throne. She bows quickly before saying, "I'm sorry I ran off on you like that, but I said to Lei that I'd return, and here I am! Don't punish him or anything, he tried really hard to stop me."

He glares at Lei, who scratches his cheek, before refocussing his attention on his granddaughter, "I am pleased that you are alive and well, but please don't frighten me again… You know that I, Emperor Jinrei Wang, am over one-hundred years old! My days are numbered, child…" his eyes drift towards Jin and Hwoarang, who are standing as stiff as statues. Both are eyeing Panda strangely, and he addresses them, "She won't bite."

The foreigners jump and straighten up, thereafter bowing. Xiaoyu points to them, standing alongside Jinrei, "The redhead's name is Hwoarang. He is a Korean pirate. The other man's name is Jin Kazama, Prince of Japan. He is the son of Kazuya Mishima and the grandson of Heihachi Mishima," she notices her Grandfather's entire body stiffen temporarily, but she hides the observation well, "Rumours from the coast say that Japan is invading Korea. Jin rebelled and with Hwoarang they taught most of Korea how to fight against them. I brought them here so they can help train our soldiers to do the same, just in case Japan breaks through Korea."

He nods and to their surprise, he bows too, albeit it is not as deep nor for as long, "It is nice to meet you both."

Aside from the guards, everybody is smiling. Jin speaks, "Likewise for us. As Xiaoyu mentioned, we have prepared Korea for the invasion it is facing, and we would like to help China prepare as well, just in case. Korea's forces are small compared to Japan, and I fear that Japan may burst through sooner or later…" he frowns before straightening up, "Would you allow us to train your soldiers of Japan's tactics so they are better armed? You are aware that I am the Prince of Japan and therefore have vast knowledge of their attacks. I have also coordinated some campaigns back home when they were testing my leadership skills."

Wang paces back and forth, rubbing his bearded chin, "Please give me a moment to think about this."

Nodding, Jin turns to Hwoarang, who is just watching him walk. He leans in close and murmurs at an almost inaudible level, "If he declines, would you like to go back to Korea and help strengthen the defence effort? It is your call."

"Yeah, if you're alright with that."

"It is fine."

Hwoarang notices that his counterpart is fumbling with the key in his pocket. An idea suddenly strikes him, and he turns wholly to face him, "Hey, the Emperor looks pretty wise, yeah? Maybe if we show him the key, he'll know where it came from and what it unlocks and all, you know? Or at least how much it sells for. He might want it for himself, we might get a huge chunk of gold from his treasury if we give it to him. Looks pretty expensive to me."

"Get your head out of your pockets."

"No."

Jin grins at the friendly counter and is grinned at in return. He raises both of his eyebrows, "That is not a bad idea…" He grabs the key from his pocket and takes several steps forward with the Korean, who is eagerly looking at the pacing man. Jinrei notices their approach and stops, an expectant look on his face. The Prince holds out the key, holding it from the very top, "Emperor Jinrei, I am sorry for interrupting, but I was wondering if you knew anything about this, or would want it."

Jinrei's mouth is opening and closing when he sees the diamond key, but nothing came out. Jin hesitantly looks to Hwoarang, who's just waiting for him to say something; and when he did manage, it's raspy, like he's having a hard time believing his eyes, "Where… did you get that?"

Jin opens his mouth, selecting his words carefully, even though he doesn't really understand what he's saying either, "A follower of 'the beast' dropped it when she met her destruction. I picked it up because I thought that perhaps it had some meaning, or we could sell it should the need arise. Why?" he pauses, holding it out a little more towards him, "Is it yours?" The extension of his arm has the Emperor move back several paces, until he finally sits back in his throne, "Where do you recognise it from?"

Feng pipes up, as though he's about to leave, "My Emperor, would you like me to get that scroll from the library room?"

Jinrei raises his hand and shakes his head. With a stiff bow, the guard returns to the left side of the throne. Xiaoyu's glancing between the foreigners and her Grandpa. She moved earlier to stand behind them. Placing a hand on each of their burly shoulders, she peers at the key that is being brought back towards the Japanese Prince's chest. She furrows her eyebrows for a moment before looking back to the man who is shaken up, and she remembers something from numerous weeks ago. The scene shifts –

_The creature lurches forward and grabs the Emperor by the front of his clothing. He lifts him up into the air, his third eye unblinking, "Where is it?!"_

_His determination unwavering and his fear undetectable, Jinrei stares at his opponent in the eye, "I do not know."_

This is the key that the demon was looking for on that day.

"I have seen that shape in that scroll too many times. I know what that key is and where it came from. I know what it unlocks. I know that there are five others like it, scattered across the world…" he looks up to the piece of roof where the demon had burst out of, "I know that there is one in China, somewhere, because the demon would not have come into my halls if he didn't think that I had it."

Jin purses his lips in thought, "The demon?"

He waves his hand away, "I am too tired and too old to be telling fairytales. Just make sure you do not lose that key."

Xiaoyu pipes up. She hates it when her Grandfather starts to become like this, self-doubting and unsure. She pushes through Jin and Hwoarang and walks towards him, stopping when she is standing directly in front of him. Pointing an accusing finger at him, she says, "I won't have anymore of this tomfoolery. I brought them here so they could tell you to mobilise and train your forces for defence, and because they trusted you and think you are a knowledgeable man, they showed you this key! Why won't you tell them what it unlocks?"

Jinrei suddenly stands, towering over his granddaughter, causing her to take several steps back in surprise. His voice is thick and solid, bouncing throughout the walls, "Because I know what will happen when the other five are united, and it is terrifying!" he rubs his temples and looks to Jin, "I am too old to do anything now. I cannot send you out to do what I failed to do in my youth. Please take the key and keep it with you at all costs. Live and die with it. Do not allow it to fall into the hands of the demon man, nor of the green monstrosity. Just… don't let the beast's servants find you and take them."

Hwoarang, who's been silent for most of the visit, finally pipes up, his trademark smirk on his curious face, "And that's why you won't tell us what it unlocks," he watches as Wang turns his head and glares at him. The smirk widens, "You're afraid. You're afraid about what'll happen if the key fulfils its purpose. You're afraid of what we'll think, you're afraid of what we'll do. You're afraid that if you give us this task, we'll manipulate it for our benefit and stray from your plans… because then _you _will fail _again, _won't you?"

"…Yes."

Jinrei backtracks to and sit in the throne, but he stumbles a little. Xiaoyu quickly catches him before he falls, and helps him ease into the chair. She then takes a step back and turns to Lei, whose eyebrows are furrowed. She then turns to Feng, who is expressionless as always in that haunting manner that is just normal for him. She finally looks to Panda, who is standing at the entrance to the room.

"Those six diamond keys unlock the shackles of Armageddon," he breathes, looking at his left hand. It is old and withered, perched upon the golden armrest, "All of the keys originate from a land far from here named Egypt, and deep in the desert there is a temple. Those keys open the temple. Those keys unlock the shackles of the beast that is tied down inside. A creature of muscle, crystals, numerous bugs, and beetles known as scarabs."

Jin and Hwoarang's face slacken, and they both think, _Scarabs…_

"The beast has servants," Jinrei looks up at the pair of them again, his gaze piercing into their soul, "Three of them, all just as tainted and twisted at he is. A muscular, green man, wearing golden bands and armour, amongst other things. Don't be fooled by the godly appearance and mannerisms, though, because beneath it all he is a tusked, disfigured monster. There is also a woman…" he notices Jin flinch, "…who I assume you have already met and destroyed. She is petite with short, black hair, and she is mainly covered in purple ink. The last is a scaly, purple man with red eyes and numerous scars. He also has a tail and wings.

"What their names are, I do not know. What they have done to get however many keys they have, I do not know. But I _do _know that they will stop at nothing to free him and use whatever powers they have to get the job done," he closes his eyes and breathes out, "In numerous legends of every culture, they all point to this beast. They all signify that if he is released, then the world's destruction is not far behind. He has no known weaknesses, for he has never been seen. He can never be tamed, for he is too strong and clever…" he opens his eyes again and breathes out, "The beast's name is Azazel."

Silence holds the room.

Jinrei speaks again, "When I was younger, I saw the pattern in the legends. I thought that there was simply no way that this same legend for Azazel could be in every single culture and all point to the same thing. If they _all _pointed to the same monster and the same end, then surely it is fact sooner or later, no? I swore to myself that I would do whatever it takes to stop that from happening. Your great-grandfather, Prince Kazama," he smiles, "he believed in me. He wanted to help. Jinpachi Mishima was a wonderful man. It is just a shame that he was brought down by the green monster in its disfigured form. It is a shame that he could not muster the forces set to help our quest in time. And when he fell, Heihachi rose…" he shakes his head, "but I am unsure of his beliefs."

He's waiting for Jin to say something, because the realising look on his face is telling him something. Hwoarang and Xiaoyu also look to his now pale visage, "I think he does, Emperor. When Asuka – she is my cousin – and I first moved into the royal house, Heihachi always went on about taking over the world. Asuka didn't understand it then, and I was unsure of whether or not he was just babbling or whether he actually _meant _it… When he first launched that assault on Korea, I thought perhaps he was just trying to extend his territory, but with this attack, I knew he was sticking true to his ramblings… But… I never thought that…" he looks to and holds the key tighter in his hand, "that he wanted this," he looks back up, "I never thought that he wanted to _destroy _the world."

"Then," Emperor Wang remarks, his voice flowing like music, "you must keep the keys from your Japanese soldiers, should they reach you," he pauses for a moment, reflecting on the large conversation. He is pleased that the two foreigners have not turned away from his tale in disgust. He noticed their realising faces whilst he was telling it, he could see them connecting the pieces, the few glimpses that they had seen to the story. He exhales and grips the armrests tighter, "Forget about training my soldiers, they are numerous in amount and should hold off Japan easily should they invade. I do not want to ask this of you, but… Prince Kazama, Hwoarang…" he looks to his granddaughter, "Xiao…" and then to the ceiling, "I want you three to find this key in China before either of the two remaining servants do. If you are confronted, then run, please run. Bring these two keys back here and I will see what I can do to destroy them."

"Can't you just destroy the key we have now?" Hwoarang asks.

"Perhaps," he mulls, dragging out the sentence, "but I still think it would be safer if both were destroyed at the same time… Perhaps this key can track other ones, too," he swallows, "Would you three be able to do this for me? And then if not for me, but for your country? For yourselves? For your friends? For your family?"

Xiaoyu nods enthusiastically, "I will. For everything."

Jin also nods, albeit not as enthusiastically as the princess, "Yes."

Hwoarang is hesitant, because he doesn't know.

The Japanese man senses this and turns to look at him, sympathy on his face. He understands how Hwoarang is feeling. They're both being pulled into something far bigger than preventing Korea's invasion. They're both being pulled into something that they don't want to do, but feel that they _have _to – it's such an unpleasant feeling. Xiaoyu obviously finds reason to do this for her Grandfather, China, her friends and herself. Jin finds comfort in doing this for Asuka and for Kazume, the only two family that currently live that he cares about. He's also doing it in memory of Jun. They are their clarifications.

But the former pirate isn't sure. Is he doing this for Korea? There is no way that he would be doing this for himself, after all he lives in the 'now', and if the end of the world came about so suddenly then he would have no regrets. He didn't have any 'friends', they were all killed in Busan, and he feels that he is still far too distant from Jin to consider him a friend yet. What is he going to get out of this? _Nothing, _and he knows it. He might die, and the thought is very unpleasant. There is no reason for him.

Jin smiles a little, lightly touches the Korean's bare shoulder, startling him. Amber eyes fix on wood-coloured ones.

"For Baek."

Hwoarang is visibly pained by the name, but he is appreciative, because he now has been given a reason, and a damn good one at that. He didn't know how something so simple but so true could elude him. Nodding and grinning a little in a fashion that is identical to that of his Father's, he stands a little taller, clenching his fists, determination swallowing him whole.

Kazama takes his hand off of the man's shoulder.

In his memory. Everything, always, for him, "For Baek."


	14. XIV

Author's Note: Short chapter, sorry ¬¬ But here it is anyway! Thanks for your support guys. I also just realised that I'm an idiot and had been spelling 'reins' as 'reigns' all the way up until now -facepalm- I'll edit it later, maybe.

* * *

_**XIV.**_

It took them about seven days on horseback to get to a relatively large town called Xi'an. On the way, the three had rested at Shijiazhuang and spent the night there, well guarded and respected. It was one of the closest towns to Beijing, and it's here that Xiao suggested looking in Xi'an first, though her theory, in Hwoarang's opinion, was strange.

_What would a key be doing on a mountain? _he thinks to himself.

Xiaoyu believes that the key is on Hua Shan, a large mountain near Xi'an. She's never been there but she just has a 'really strong gut feeling' and also thinks that her 'people will tell me how to get there, I'm a princess after all!'. Her theory is that when the keys were scattered, however long ago, they were placed in places that were really hard to get to, so only the strongest and most determined could get there. She thinks that Hua Shan is a good place to start.

And so they're climbing up the mountain. Xiaoyu is humming a Chinese song to herself, a smile still on her youthful, bright face. She also constantly looks over her shoulder, monitoring their three horses, making sure that they haven't run away or been released. Jin is silent and determined to not fall down. Whilst not deathly afraid of heights, he prefers to avoid them as much as he can. He's coping by not looking back or down, and only moving up.

Hwoarang is thinking on the information that he had been given in the Emperor's hall. It's consumed his mind. He wonders how and why the man had such time to see all of the world's prophecies. He also wonders why he is suddenly the servant of not only Korea, not only of China, but now the world, because by going on this journey, well…

His focus is suddenly broken. Holding onto the rocks from where he is, he watches the Japanese Prince ascend higher, and as he does, he furrows his eyebrows, "Hey Kazama, since when did your pants glow? Or a small part of them anyway. I think it's the key, Jinrei might be right about them being like a tracking device."

Both Jin and Xiaoyu stop and look, but it is the wrong move for the former. He suddenly becomes dizzy and clings to the cliff side. Hurriedly snapping his head back up, he looks to the blue sky, and its here he realises that the progress made so far was more than he had anticipated. Butterflies are floating around in his stomach, and he felt weak just from seeing how high up he is.

"Wait…" Hwoarang grins, "Don't tell me…" he climbs up higher, now exactly beside the frozen samurai, "You're afraid of heights."

He nods stiffly, his fingers aching from clinging to the rock so tightly, "Just a little."

He pauses. The Blood Talon had not been expecting the admission. Xiao is oblivious to what is going on below her, and she just keeps climbing. She's further oblivious to the Korean's current perving. His eyes drift from her behind to Hua Shan's horizon, and an idea forms. He takes another step up and looks back down at Jin, "Hey, come on. Keep up with me and you'll be up there in no time. Your feet will be on solid ground and it'll all be okay."

He nods again, however the manoeuvre is not as stiff as it had been. Exhaling sharply, he starts to climb. His head is by the other man's ribcage, and he hears soft encouragements. He smiles at this, it's a side he hasn't seen before. Since they started out on their journey, Jin felt himself growing closer and closer to him, to the point where, on his part anyway, he perceives them as friends. He's pretty sure that it's not the same on his end, but he assumes it is because he has a longer way to go in terms of trust and opening up. Maybe one day they'll be best friends and treat each other like brothers.

His unintentional pondering has him speed up, to the point where he is now two body length's ahead of Hwoarang. He grabs a tree branch to pull himself up more, and hears him call out, "There you go! Not much further now!"

As Jin ascends, the man who is spurring him starts to reflect on the decision he made in Shijiazhuang. Before drifting off to sleep, he decided that he was going to be a little more open and friendly around Jin. He deserves that much from him after all, considering what they had been through so far and what was to come. Not only that, but the Prince helped him help his homeland, and he risks being killed for treason should he return to Japan… all because he's fighting for what he believes in.

The least he could do is not be so much of a burden.

Xiaoyu is already at the top, breathing in as much air as she could. She says, "The air is so thin up here…"

"We're on a mountain, sweetheart," Hwoarang calls back sarcastically and playfully, "Of course it would be."

She rolls her eyes and gets on her knees, waving Jin up. She grabs a forearm with both of her smaller hands, and pulls him up. Jin is obviously pleased to be back on stable ground, if simply lying there and relishing the feel of the earth beneath his body is anything to go by. He eventually stands up and sees a small stone structure, like a shrine. He looks past his current position and sees stairs snaking up the mountain, "Why did we just climb up the cliff side if there's a set of stone stairs just there?"

Xiaoyu also looks, "…Wow. I didn't even notice."

Hwoarang's now standing beside them, rubbing his sore arms, "Well, we're going down those stairs when we leave," he turns to Jin, "Get the key out of your pocket. It's glowing brighter than it was before, and its transition between glowing and… not glowing was getting shorter and shorter the more you went up the mountain."

Jin fishes out the key and holds it in his hand. He starts to walk towards the building, watching as the key brightens and dims at a much faster rate than he had anticipated. Judging by the speed, he assumes that the second key is quite close by. Now all he needs to do is find out exactly _where _it is and then it's all good. Then they can go back down the stairs, return to Emperor Jinrei and have the two keys destroyed. But really, what about the other four keys then? Shouldn't he keep them and use them to find the others, then bring them all back? That makes a lot more sense…

He sees something glowing on the floor of the building. He knows it's the second key.

Running towards it, he shouts something to Hwoarang and Xiaoyu, and picks it up, inspecting it. They watch as the keys stop glowing, now along side one another. Smiling to himself, the samurai looks to the other two, "Well that wasn't so hard… It looks like your theory was correct, Xiaoyu. Thank you for your suggestion and thank you for your help."

She smiles and scratches her cheek, "You're welcome, Jin. Now let's get back to Beijing."

As they start to descend the stairs, Hwoarang smiles. He looks to the Japanese youth and whispers in his ear, "She likes youuu."

"No she doesn't," he replies smoothly, "She's just friendly."

Shrugging, he speaks again, "Don't look over the side of the stairs."

Despite being told not to, Jin still does, and he hurriedly speeds down Hua Shan's stairs, looking straight at the ground. The Korean laughs.

* * *

Jin feels uneasy.

Their return to Beijing is the same as it had been when they first arrived and departed – full of vibrant smiles and beautiful colours. But the air feels different, and he isn't quite sure why. The air feels sombre and dreary, despite such lively faces and colours. A lot of the people are gazing at Xiaoyu in a new type of light, as though… sympathetic, expectant and even wary. But for what? He doesn't know, but that feeling of restlessness swirls around in the pit of his stomach. It's very, very strong. He feels nauseous.

Considering the way Hwoarang is clutching Baek's reins, he knows that he feels the same. He glances at the man from the corner of his eye, before refocusing on the path before him. He begins to inhale and exhale at even paces and with even strength. Usually before a large battle, he would use this technique to try and relax himself, and dispel whatever nervousness he may or may not have been feeling. It's not working as well as it used to.

And like before, Xiaoyu leaps off of her horse and hands the reins to the nearest guard. The face of the guard, though, as opposed to being shielded and emotionless, is tinged with sadness. Jin and Hwoarang follow suit, giving their reins and thanking them with a small bow or wave, before jogging to catch up with the perceptibly pleased princess.

They walk down the long corridor as they had done two weeks ago, and its here that he notices that Xiaoyu is now also uneasy. She places one hand on one of the doors, and instead of throwing it open like she did beforehand, she inches it open slowly, peeking in through the crack to make sure that Jinrei isn't sleeping. He's always in a bad mood if woken up whilst sleeping.

Her eyes widen. She throws open the door and runs in, seeing Lei, Feng and Panda hunch over a crumpled form on the ground. Now she's standing over the scene. She hears Jin enter and gasp, and Hwoarang enter and curse behind her. She doesn't pay attention to anything around her, because her eyes and her world now have one focal point. Her stomach twists and she breathes in, not believing what she's seeing.

She's choking on her tears. Xiaoyu drops to her knees and places a hand on the bloody space, tracing the outline around his throat. There's still blood cascading down, and it occurs to her that the attack has been recent. The red stains his skin, and the white garments that he's wearing, and usually wears on a day to day basis. With an anguished howl, she buries her face into the chest of the murdered man, "Grandpa!"

Emperor Jinrei Wang of China is dead.


	15. XV

Author's Note: EGAD, I have updated after six months x.x What can I say, Uni's been eating me alive, and I'm finally on holidays :3 And you know something else? This section just looks so dead lately… I think its time I give it a bit of life, hmm? And as always, many thanks to those who read and review!

* * *

_**XV.**_

The newly crowned Empress of China sits on her throne, looking the two men before her she calls her friends. She dearly wants to go on the journey with them to find the other keys, but she knows that if she leaves, China will fall apart. She has no children, no siblings, no cousins – she is the last of the Wang Dynasty, and the first of the Ling Dynasty – and hopefully not the last.

They'd taken both keys to the blacksmiths. No amount of burning or bashing destroyed or disfigured the keys in any way. With that said and done, they decided that it would be best to find the other keys and get to Azazel before his two servants could, and destroy him by any means possible. It's the only way that they know of so far.

And so, she sits in the throne that her Grandfather had sat in only days ago, fresh tears along the rims of her eyes. She knows that it will probably be the last time she sees either Jin or Hwoarang again. She knows that they could die in this quest, and she knows that if they succeed, they probably will not return, for they have larger issues to attend to, such as stopping Heihachi's evil plans.

"I'll send some forces to Korea for you, Hwoarang," she says solemnly, "Hopefully with some more men, the Japanese can be kept out of China and driven out of Korea. I don't do this to build diplomatic relations nor do I do this to try and look good in the eyes of the world. I do this as a token of our friendship, as a reminder that you're not alone."

Hwoarang nods, but there is obviously something disturbing him. He's looking at Xiaoyu's face. In the instant that she found Jinrei dead on the ground, all life was drained from her face, let alone the sunshine happiness that was just so… _her. _Even all of these days later, the life and happiness is still gone, and he wonders how long it will be before she wears that sweet smile again. It took him years to lift his head up high, and he hopes that it won't happen for her. He wishes her a speedy recovery, because he understands how it feels to have a loved one murdered.

She turns to Jin, her face still as emotionless and blank as ever. It's this that causes the Prince to lower his head and bite his lip, even as she continues to speak, "Jin, I don't know what I can do for you aside from give you more supplies and more money for the quest. The only thing I can think of is my blessing," she nods a little, as though confirming it with herself, "I give you both my blessing and my undying support. I wish you the best of luck, and please take care of yourselves and one another."

Jin and Hwoarang smile a little and bow. In return, Xiaoyu bows her head, and Lei, Feng and Panda salute. The foreigners turn away from the Empress and her guards, and walk down the long, red carpet once more, going to take the reins of Flare and Baek, and head west towards the lands that they had only heard a little bit about – Europe.

* * *

Their journey through China is very silent compared to that of Korea. Jin and Hwoarang occasionally smile at one another, but little else is done. They've been through Hohhot and have been around various mountains and passed various other towns, such as Wuhai, Jinchang, Juiquan, Hami and Changji. It's been _months_ since they started this journey, let alone leave Beijing, and both are very homesick. They know they have reasons for going on this journey, but they're beginning to question whether or not it's really worth it.

Jin frequently looks to the sky during the trip, as it brings him some form of comfort. He still thinks about his Mother a lot, and he wonders if she's watching them from up in the clouds. He questions whether or not he was forgiven by her for what he had to do, and whether or not she's proud of what they're doing. He addressed the issue with Hwoarang once, and he remembers the line in the conversation that really stuck with him.

"_I don't know how or why you wanna be forgiven for doing the right thing, Kazama."_

Hwoarang frequently looks to water, because it definitely brings him comfort. He misses the sea a lot more than he thought he would have. The feel of the boat rocking beneath his feet, the challenge just to stand on the vessel as it moved through the vicious waves… He's a fish out of water, because although he knows and is accustomed to land, the salt water now flows through his veins so much more. Every puddle of water that they'd pass, he'd look in it, only to see the ripples and his own reflection. And every time he sees his reflection, he'd also see Baek there behind him. He too wonders if his dead parent is proud of him, and why. He addressed the issue with Jin once, and he remembers the line in the conversation that really stuck with him.

"_You faced your fear and overcame it, Hwoarang. That is something to be proud of."_

They've just stocked up their supplies from Altay and are continuing onwards, going in a north-westerly direction. They're aware of the numerous mountains to come, but they're prepared to navigate through the area to get to the other side, where they feel Europe begins. The talkativeness they had at the start of the whole journey, way back in Busan and Gimhae, is slowly starting to come back with every town they pass, and they are pleased with that.

Altay's about half an hour's ride behind them. They're talking about past girlfriends. Jin's list stands at a very impressive _zero, _and Hwoarang's already mentioned that he's long lost count on the amount of women who called themselves his 'girlfriend'. His boasting is soon enough ignored, however, but he only notices when Jin stops Flare from walking. The Korean shuts up and also stops Baek, looking ahead of himself to see –

"_A muscular, green man, wearing golden bands and armour, amongst other things."_

Both men draw their swords immediately. The metal sings, free.

"_Don't be fooled by the godly appearance and mannerisms, though, because beneath it all he is a tusked, disfigured monster."_

The man holds out his free hand. On his other arm is a golden shield, "Surrender the keys to me. They belong to the beast."

"Never," Jin snits.

"Your name, monster," Hwoarang growls.

"I am Ogre, the God of Fighting," he tilts his head to the side and back.

"Prove it."

Ogre smirks and charges immediately.

Jin calls for Hwoarang to stand down, but he doesn't. He rushes after him, tightly holding onto the reins, and tilts his katana so that the sharp end is facing the monster, ready to slice him open or something off at any moment. The blood is rushing through him, adrenaline making the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge, making his stomach twist and turn, and –

Ogre grabs the katana, and with incredible strength, manages to lift Jin off of Flare and throw him onto the ground. As he does this with one hand, Hwoarang is grabbed by the hair with the other, and then head-butted in the face, before he too is dropped. With a green glare, he lifts the redhead again, this time by the arm, and slams his other fist into his stomach, over and over again, before tearing the golden dao from his hand, intending to use it against him.

"Such a weak little creature…" he muses aloud, "Your bark is far worse than your bite."

He is stabbed in the thigh from behind. Ogre drops Hwoarang and reels in pain, hissing, seeing the katana stick out of his muscular limb. From the corner of his eyes, he sees Jin there, still gripping onto the hilt of the weapon, and, gritting his teeth, he grabs the sharp end and pushes it back out quickly, forcing the hilt to smash into the kid's nose.

He watches as blood dribbles out of his nostrils, and, as punishment for his distraction, is met with a sharp kick to the side of the head, and another to his side. He sees a fast rush of gold, and the dao slices up one side and then across his stomach. Behind him, he feels the katana do something similar – slice down his body and across the top of his neck. He hisses again and rolls out of the way of more attacks, causing both men to fall against each other, their weapons pressed up close, the metal gleaming in the fading sun.

Ogre grabs both of their heads and smashes them together, before kicking at their legs three times in a sweeping fashion. He then weaves underneath another sword swipe and slams his golden shield into Jin's jaw, causing him to bite on his tongue harshly. He then spins in a small circle, and the metal pushes into Hwoarang's throat, causing him to gasp, heave and cough. He then delivers a harsh punch to both of their chests, forcing them to fall back onto the ground and try and suck more air into their deprived lungs.

"He told us… to run…" Hwoarang gasps, his voice raspy and clearly hurt and fading, "and we didn't…"

The God shakes his head in disgust before shoving his shield-less hand into Jin's pocket. He fishes around and withdraws one key. He checks it out, making sure it is the diamond one, and surprised, he spits, "I should have known that you only had the one key rather than two, Jin Kazama. Your friend is clearly too stupid to have gotten one for himself…" At this, he turns to Hwoarang, expecting a growl, but he is pleased to see him unconscious instead. Standing tall, he turns away, "I'm disgusted in you. I expected so much more…"

Ogre takes off his shield and holds the top of it with both of his hands. He stands above the unconscious Korean and goes to slam the edge of it onto his throat, essentially beheading him (if done correctly); but before the weak Jin has the chance to intervene, an arrow soars out of nowhere. In his dazed mind, he believes it to be Xiaoyu, but the rational side of his consciousness knows full well that there's more than one person in the world who uses a bow and arrow.

The arrow strikes Ogre in the back of the neck, where Jin made an incision with his katana earlier. It digs in deep, touching upon the bone. Screaming in pain, Ogre turns and hisses at the newcomers, before vanishing into thin air with his shield. He'd come back and finish them both off when he was ready and when there was no more, random support.

The Prince begins to fade like his friend before him, but he swears he sees a man with windswept, blonde hair run towards them, concerned. In the background, he thinks he sees other shapes, but –

* * *

– Jin wakes in a tent.

"Ah, you're awake!"

He turns his head to the left with a soft, annoyed groan, and he sees a man dressed primarily in red and black sit there, his hands tangling over his knees. There's a few scars on his face, and his blonde hair looks much tamer than it did when he saw him earlier. His face looks far different to the ones he is familiar with – and he concludes that he must be European, and that they've finally made it to Europe.

He reaches over to feel Jin's forehead, making sure that he doesn't have a temperature, and he's met with a harsh glare and a rising hand. The man immediately backs down and nods, looking over his shoulder to a coming, younger woman with pink hair, "Alisa, this one's awake and he's doing okay. How is the redhead?"

"The redhead's organs are functioning at full capacity and he is breathing normally, however he is still asleep," she scratches her hair a little and readjusts the flowers in her hair, "His shoulder appears to be a little jarred from being thrown onto the ground, however. How is this one here?"

"He's alright, he just woke up. Go get Doctor Bosconovitch and we can get him checked out wholly."

"Right away!"

Jin stutters, trying to rise from the bed, "What on Earth…?"

The man gently pushes him back down. The bed shakes with a thud, "Easy there, boy. You need to rest and relax for as long as you can. That beast really beat you and your friend around."

"_Boy?_" he hisses, dismayed, "Do you know who you are speaking to?"

"Well, someone younger than me, obviously," he smirks playfully.

He sits back up, a finger pointing directly at the other man, but he falls back down once he finishes speaking, "I'll have you know that I am the crowned Prince of Japan! Please do not address me in such a manner ever again. I do not mind if you don't call me 'Sir' or any other title, but not something as demeaning as 'boy'!"

"The crowned Prince of Japan?" he asks blankly. There's a far away look in his eyes.

"Yes."

He snorts, all former thought having vanished from his mind, "Yeah, and I'm your Uncle."

Jin narrows his eyes and hisses, and before he has a chance to retort, an elderly man, lead by Alisa, entered the tent. She clears her throat and bows slightly in front of both men respectfully, before stepping aside for the doctor to check him out. Before long, there's old, frail hands pulling at the skin on his face, widening his eyes, checking them out, feeling his pulse, checking his hearing and so on and so forth.

Soon enough, all of the prodding and poking ceases, and, still bent over, he looks to the blond man, who is standing and speaking to this Bosconovitch. He strains his ears to listen in the hopes of hearing more about how Hwoarang is doing, but they seem just to be speaking about how he is. He hears over and over how he just 'needs some rest, and then he'll be back on his feet in no time'.

He can't take the silence, and he soon growls, "Please, tell me about my friend. He's okay, right?"

Alisa smiles a little, but it's the doctor who speaks to him, "Your friend is alright. He's in good shape, however he did cop a few painful blows. His nose is not broken, but it is very swollen and it will probably be difficult for him to breathe through it for a while. It was very bloody, I must say…" He clears his throat, "He's guarded quite well. Jack and Jane are standing outside of his tent to prevent him from leaving, and Doctor Abel is monitoring him as he continuously fades in and out of consciousness. I checked over him also because, it's always best to have a second opinion sometimes… Anyway, you must sleep. Dragunov is standing guard outside of the tent, and Alisa will accompany him. I guess, seeing as you're awake, you could converse with our leader here for a while."

Jin looks to the unnamed man as Bosconovitch and Alisa exist, and he finally asks, "Leader?"

He nods and pulls his red neckerchief higher up towards his nose. It's a bit chilly, and he's not exactly a fan of it, "Yeah. We're just people from all over Europe who've come together to protect those random travellers from the barbarians around the place, and also from that beast you saw. We've heard his name is Ogre, but we're not so sure."

"His name is Ogre, yes," he nods, "The deceased Emperor Jinrei Wang of China informed us of this."

"You know the Emperor of China, hey?" he grins, "Then maybe you really are the Prince of Japan."

"Where am I?"

"You just entered Russia, coming out of China."

He rolls his eyes, before finally succeeding in sitting up. He places a hand to his head until the world stops spinning, before looking at the itchy blanket that's been draped over his clothed and armoured body. He looks to the man once again and, after some hesitance, asks, "So, what is your name? My name is Jin Kazama…" At this, the man's eyebrows rose slightly, "and my companion is Hwoarang, a pirate from Korea."

"I'm a long way from home, Jin," he grins and bows his head a little, "I am Lars Alexandersson of Sweden."


	16. XVI

Author's Note: …I don't like that I'm updating this every six months –GRRRRRRR-. Anyway. not my best but I hope its enjoyable anyway.

* * *

_**XVI.**_

Jin and Hwoarang spend the next weeks and months in the company of these Europeans, just to make sure that the pair would recover and be fighting fit the next time they encounter Ogre. Thanks to them, they managed to progress from Russia's border, go around Kazakhstan, and further into the enormous country. According to Alisa, they were at the Polish, Lithuanian and Belarusian borders – where the three countries meet. It's during their travels does Lars finally ask Jin directly a question that's been dancing on the end of his tongue for the days that flew by.

"What are you looking for?"

"The monster."

He shakes his head, taking his gaze from Hwoarang and Alisa's chat on the small slope to the male beside him, and then speaks again, his voice a little lower and a little firmer, "That's not what I mean…" He taps his own chest, indicating his heart, "I mean in here. What are you looking for in here? A family member? New friends? A way to escape your title?"

At this, he's forced to pause, because there's a multitude of answers. If he doesn't stop for a few moments and think on how to actually construct them into a proper sentence, then they'll just dribble out of his mouth in an incoherent mess. He only now realises that there's more than one reason, the one he'd been living by up until now. He only now realises that it's not _really _just because he wants to help Hwoarang get the Japanese away from Korea, or to honour Jinrei's last wish.

"I'm looking for answers."

He wants to know why.

He wants to know why Jun and Kazuya left. Why they turned to the dark side. Why they had forsaken him and Asuka. They were only children, and they'd been willingly abandoned without a care or much of a second thought. They'd taken them from the happy and comforting family life they knew in Okinawa, to the stale, cold and uncomfortable life they had with Heihachi. He wants them to see exactly how much that move hurt him. Asuka recovered from it relatively fast, despite being made a servant, but he… is still bleeding from it.

"I'm sure you'll find them," Lars offers, patting him on the back, going on ahead, "once you look inside yourself."

"What is that supposed to mean?" he growls, but he's given nothing but a light wave.

His statement has Jin think for the rest of the day – what does he mean? Seriously? Lars was implying that he already knew the answers, and that these answers were inside of him. He shakes his head for a few moments every time he feels something dark, trying to be rid of it, before looking up ahead of himself again, watching as the group speak, sparing Dragunov, whose facial expression is permanently set on blank.

A few hours pass. The sun's just starting to dip behind the horizon, and everyone's getting tired and hungry, and that little bit colder. They've stopped at the top of a hill and are looking out and around them. Dragunov's silently setting up camp, the two doctors are assisting, and there's something that's making Jin clutch the hilt of his katana with worry. It's when the breeze picks up that extra little bit do the goosebumps come, and he turns his head to look over his shoulder in the direction of the wind, watching as it starts to become a gale – and the darkening sky adds to his uncertainty.

And then there's a mighty roar.

Jin's pulled out his katana and exhales. Hwoarang's already drawn his dao, the doctors are holding Flare and Baek, and Lars has grabbed his lance, giving a quick glance at an unsure Alisa, who is standing in front of a worried Jane. Dragunov and Jack's hands are already up, their fists loosely closed. They all just stand and watch as a large monstrosity flies by and lands before them all, his green arms folded across his chest, his face twisting into a disapproving frown.

"You should be _dead_," Ogre growls at Jin and Hwoarang.

It's Hwoarang who answers with a cocky, lopsided smirk, "There's a reason we're considered rebels."

Ogre's mouth twists into a challenging grin, "Then it is time that you are punished for your seditious ways."

He charges for Hwoarang, because his attitude in general makes his blood boil, but the Korean is quick to roll out of the way and drag his golden dao up the side of his body. Jin's mirrored his actions, cutting the other side, and, frustrated, Ogre spins in a small circle, knocking them both onto the ground. As the two Asians fall, Dragunov and Jack come lumbering in.

The sturdier man seizes the God before spinning him slightly and hurling him in the air. It's when he hits the ground head first does Dragunov slide in and get him into a grappling lock, pulling on his limbs in an attempt to dislocate him and render them useless. Ogre's strength proves to be too much, even with Jack's coming assistance, and they're both thrown off as well – but then Lars is in the middle of the battle, swinging his arms, guiding the lance in a rising, vertical direction.

Ogre growls in anger when he feels the weapon partially slice up his throat and some of his chin. He feels the blood slowly dribble down, but he's not hindered by his current wounds. He successfully bounds back as Lars delivers a horizontal slash – which misses entirely – before leaping forward, seizing him by the throat. He hisses something – something inhuman, something angry – before constricting his hands, grinning with glee as the Swede drops his weapon. At the same time, Ogre starts punching him in the face.

"Little boy," Ogre growls, sneering, "He who was abandoned by an Emperor he would've _died _for…"

"Put him down!" Alisa cries, running towards the current battle, "Put him _down!_"

Before she can get there, though, Hwoarang and Jin are already on the offensive. They both charge towards the green man and stab him in the shoulders – one sword in each blade – and Ogre's forced to drop Lars, who then crawls towards a teary and fretful Alisa. They push their swords downwards, somewhat pinning him as Dragunov (who is now holding Lars' lance) and Jack come at him from the front.

Jack's large hand grips Ogre's face, crushing the bones below, as Dragunov drives the lance through his heart. Ogre screams at the attacks, and the two men behind him take their weapons and skitter to the sides when gold light starts shining from him. The other two then back off as well, watching as he takes several lumbering steps back, screaming in pain and hissing in anger. His body's contorting into all sorts of unusual angles, and it's a painful sight to behold.

It's his body that changes first. It grows in size, and his skeletal structure continues to morph. His overall stance bends forward, and one of his arms starts to pack on the muscle, and the claws – the other's quickly transforming into an angry snake, just as he grows a tail and a pair of large, batlike wings. His face is the last to shift, roaring callous and indistinguishable curses as his face becomes fatter and thicker, and his eyes glow a brighter gold instead of a leering red.

Jin exhales when the beast turns specifically to look at him. This is what Jinrei warned them of – this is True Ogre.

True Ogre roars and breathes in. What he breathes out, though, isn't air – its _fire, _and it charges straight towards him, ripping up the blades of grass beneath the stream. He rolls out of the way, as does Hwoarang for good measure, before quickly eyeing Jack and Dragunov as they pounce on him and try to hold him down, but to no avail.

Their attack, though, provides a lovely distraction – Hwoarang's managed to get to True Ogre unnoticed, and with a mighty heave, he brings down the dao, cutting off one of True Ogre's wings so that he can't escape and so that they're not at such a large disadvantage in the fight. True Ogre screams and staggers back, looking to the missing limb, before setting his sights on the pirate once more, charging towards him, smoke billowing from his large nostrils.

With his clawed hand, he swiftly strikes Hwoarang across the upper half of his body. Because of the speed of the attack, the Korean can't avoid it, and he places his free hand to the stinging area, moving forward to slice at him again. With his snake arm, he grabs him and constricts him as tightly as possible – but before Hwoarang can even start choking, Jin's already at the scene, bringing down his katana, slicing off the arm entirely. True Ogre again screams, and the arm goes limp around the Japanese man's friend, writhing on the ground until it successfully dies. To be sure, Hwoarang cuts it an additional two times in two different places.

But True Ogre is too angry. He's like a wounded animal, cornered – and as he breathes in again and releases another jet of flames, he watches in fury as the four come at him again. He feels a tickle of glee and joy as he continuously beats them down like the worthless and stupid apes that they are, hitting Jin across the face, and Hwoarang in the stomach, and Dragunov in the back, and Jack in the thigh; but he doesn't notice blond hair behind him.

It's not until Lars is directly behind the creature with his lance in hand does he realise that he should've been paying more attention to the man who was down. It's not until Lars slices True Ogre's head off with the lance do the others realise that he even came back to help, despite his state. It's not until the creature starts to vanish into the air in colourful wisps, like Unknown before him, do Jin and Hwoarang realise that they'd done, with help, what they thought in passing that they could not do.

It's when two keys (Rather than one) form does Jin lurch forth and snatch them up, looking to the Korean with a smile on his face. It's when they're placed with the other one does Jin feel like he's really accomplishing something here, especially when Hwoarang curtly remarks with a grin, walking to stand beside him, "We're halfway there. Three out of six."

Without a word, Jin exhales and looks up at Lars, who is looking back with a calm stare. His lips curve into a slight smile, and Lars understands that it's a silent 'thank you'.


	17. XVII

Author's Note: Uh yeah hi... Bet you're surprised to see that this has been updated, lol. About a year since I updated this sadly, and I doubt very few people still read this but... I'm not going to give up on this story, you guys. No matter how long it takes me to finish it, I'm gonna finish it. I love it too much and its over half way done anyway. And with my main project finished, I have a lot more time to focus on this. So, enjoy! And it turns out its not "Kazume" - Harada himself confirmed the name to be "Kazumi".

* * *

_**XVII.**_

He's glaring at the map opposite him as opposed to the sumo demonstration before him.

_I know what you are doing._

Heihachi grits his teeth and slams his fists into his throne's armrests, causing the sumo to jump in surprise. Damn his grandson for leaving the army. Damn his grandson _more __so _for learning about the legends of Azazel. Damn that old fool for telling him – and then he grins, because he's glad that Jinrei is dead. He doesn't know if there is an heir to his throne, but he does know that China is now weak – he's already since ordered his men to cross into the border once they were done with Korea.

The campaign is going well, but he's met resistance. No matter, the Koreans are worms anyway. He's ordered his forces to divide – half are to stay behind and seize Seoul, and the other half are to continue northward and destroy any opposing people there. Should they scramble through, then they're to continue into China. The thoughts of domination make Heihachi grin, and he raises his hands to tap his fingers together for a few moments, a shriek of a bird heard vaguely outside.

He abruptly stands, much to the surprise of his entertainer and his bodyguards, including Lee, who is close by. The latter stiffly stands taller and clears his throat, silently asking for Heihachi's attention. When a gruff grunt is directed his way, Lee bows slightly and then asks, choosing his words as carefully as possible, "What is it that you are after, my Emperor?"

"Take me to Asuka's chambers," he replies, staring straight ahead at the closed, wooden door.

Lee bows stiffly and gazes at Ganryu, the sumo who had come to demonstrate his techniques, "Leave."

Ganryu bows also, thanks them for their time, and is escorted out. Once they are well down the corridor, Lee takes Heihachi and another bodyguard to Asuka's chambers, navigating through the silent household. He fiddles with his fingers and takes a hurried glance at the Emperor, noting how his brow is firmly furrowed, and that the wrinkles on his visage are all the more apparent. It's the stress.

The journey to Asuka's chambers passes faster than expected, and Heihachi's thrown the door open to find Asuka sitting there at her desk, practicing her calligraphy strokes. She jumps at the noise and drops the brush, her dainty fingers curling into her palms to make training-harden fists. She bites back a smarmy comment – something along the lines of 'knock next time' – but it's the Emperor at the door, and she swears that's a vein protruding from his skull.

"Sir?" she instead offers, uncertain of herself for the first time in many years.

Heihachi folds his arms across his chest and lifts his right wrist so that the note is visible to her. She spots the kanji of her name and her eyes widen. She can feel her nails digging into her palms as he speaks, and every syllable grows increasingly venomous, "I found this in your chambers…" a flash of anger crosses his eyes, "Would you like to explain this to me?"

She's got no idea how to reply, so instead, she plays dumb, "It appears to be a letter addressed to me."

"And the contents?" he hisses.

"For my eyes only," she snits, and then adds, "May I ask what you were doing in my chambers?"

Heihachi crosses the room and slams his fist across her face, but he is too slow. Asuka's on her feet, having blocked the attack, and he can see the rage in her eyes too. He's still firmly holding the letter in his right hand, "This is a letter from the Prince, addressed to you, informing you of his betrayal. You and he are as thick as thieves – if it were not for the fact that I do not _allow _women into the army, I am certain you would've thrown yourself along side him!

"You allegiances are not to me, they are to your dear cousin! You _support _his cause, you _support_ the defect, you support _my __down fall,_" he reaches across, hoping to grab her by the throat, but she weaves to the left and throws her leg out, her heel slamming into the back of his calf. The move only makes him angrier, and his eyes widen as he throws his fist across her face – and this time, it hits. He approaches more so, stomping on one toe and kicking her in the ribcage thereafter, "I have taken you both into my home when nobody else would, and _this _is how you repay my kindness? You are no family of mine…"

She staggers to her feet and is then knocked off of them once again with three sweeping kicks. As she tumbles back, her head hits the side of her bed, and blood trickles down her cheek. She becomes disorientated, weak, and she can't make out the form that's rushing in from behind Lee and Heihachi. It's a blur of purple and white, and elegance radiates from the colours.

And then a voice, "Heihachi Mishima, what are you doing?"

Kazumi's chest is heaving and her eyebrows are knitted together – this is not the man she married. This almost felt like a complete stranger, even as she approaches and as he stares. She swallows and fights back the lump that she can feel forming deep in her throat, and her gaze shifts from the wounded Asuka to the Emperor, who wears a calm mask and replies with a small 'hmm'.

"She has done nothing wrong, Heihachi," Kazumi remarks, crossing the room so she's standing before the unconscious body. She brings her hands together and grasps them tightly so she has something to hold onto, because she can see the subdued emotions swimming aimlessly behind the thin line of control her husband has, "She's just a child. She's a good person!"

With a great shout, Heihachi threw a palm out, feeling cartilage collapse beneath it as it pushes deeper into Kazumi's face before attacking again. He starts to slide out of this world and into another, where everything is blurred together and he can't distinguish between right and wrong, left and right, good and evil, hate and love; there are no sounds of any kind.

It's only when he slides out of this world does he realise that he's still holding the letter in one hand, and a dead body in the other. He blinks repeatedly, seeing the eyes of his wife stare back at him lifelessly. Her skin is pale and stained with thick, red blood trickling from the corner of her lips, from her nose and the side of her head. His fingers are deep in her throat – he suffocated his wife. He suffocated the Empress of Japan, his woman of many years – Kazumi.

All in blind rage.

Heihachi drops her and takes several steps back, not watching as her body collapses besides the unconscious Asuka. He breathes in once, twice, three times, and then he turns away, heading straight back to his throne room, "Put Asuka in a prison cell."

Lee is visibly trembling, but he stands up a little taller and asks as Heihachi passes him, "And of the Empress?"

Heihachi wishes he could respond, but he can't. Instead, he crushes the note in his hand and continues on his way.

* * *

The days are cold. The weeks are long.

Asuka watches the shadows of figures pass up and down the corridor. Her fingers are fiddling with the hem of her shirt as she hears the men swear at each other and bark out orders. She wanted a life of fighting and meaning – yet she could never have it. After listening to the men talk, she's not so sure she still wants to attain that. Her life before Heihachi was comfortable… her life with Heihachi wasn't too bad either, but now –

There's a shadow draping over her. She looks up from her fingers and notes formal attire and silver hair – its Lee Chaolan, one of the higher servants. She furrows her eyebrows to try and see what he's holding in one hand and in the other. One of the items is small and silver, and the other is larger. Lee merely smiles at her, and then she remembers – he's brought her some more food.

He opens the door quietly and slides the food inside, shutting the door thereafter and standing beside the cell as she quickly shovels the food down her throat. Through the food, she manages to fumble out, "Thank you so much."

Lee quietly offers a thumbs up – he knows the guards are still hovering around, but he needs to play it safe. Since that day, he's come and given Asuka food. Its more than what other prisoners get – and rightly so, seeing as she's related to royalty – and he hates that she's imprisoned because of Heihachi's paranoia. Asuka might've supported Jin's defection and cause, just like he does – but that doesn't make either of them his enemy, for they do not act on it.

Lee straightens up and mutters to her in a low voice, "I asked Marshall and Forrest to prepare something extra special for you today. I hope it is of good quality. It is a Chinese dish, but I'm not sure what it is. Either way, I hope it is enjoyable."

Asuka manages to fumble out a 'thank you' through her food-stuffed mouth. She continues to eat as quickly as possible – she doesn't want to get anybody else in trouble, or dead, because of her actions. When she had learnt about Kazumi's death… She can still smell the vomit that left her mouth straight after, and she can still feel the hot water leak from her eyes until it felt as though her eyes were burning, or at least falling out of their sockets. Either way… she doesn't want that responsibility, that weight to hold her down more so. She should be flying free – now she's imprisoned.

She quickly gives Lee the plate and other items, thanking him again, before watching him saunter down the corridor. But its when he gets to the end of it does she see a familiar silhouette, and she swears that they're some guards, too – Heihachi's found him, and Asuka can feel her stomach twist and turn and begin to knot itself. Yet still, she remains silent, like a stunned cat – she has no idea what to do or say.

"May I inquire what you are doing here, Chaolan?" Heihachi growls.

"Feeding the girl," he replies honestly, still standing tall.

"She has already been fed today."

"She is related to Jin, and is therefore of noble heritage. Prisoner or not, she deserves a second meal."

The plate goes flying and crashes into the ground. Lee remains still, staring straight ahead of himself – Heihachi is shaking with rage, "She is not of my bloodline – she is not _fit_ to be noble in the slightest."

"Yet you treat her like one," he remarks, trying to hide his snide.

"You dare question my judgement?" he growls, lurching forth so that Lee's pinned up against a wall – but from what Asuka can see, the younger man's composure remains, even as the guards surround the pair and she can't distinguish them from one another anymore. Heihachi does not receive a response, so he asks another question, "Did any of the chefs assist you? The Law Family?"

And his voice does not falter as he lies, "No, sir. Everyone was asleep, so I made it myself. What I have said is the truth."

There's silence for a moment - and then one, single slice and a sound of something heavy hitting the floor. Heihachi grunts.

Asuka turns away and curls into a ball on the cold floor, "Lee…"


	18. XVIII

Author's Note: So this is now going to be the 'regularly updated fic', woo XD Did you guys have a good Christmas? Either way hope you guys have a fantastic New Year :3 Enjoy!

* * *

_**XVIII.**_

* * *

They've become like family now. Sort of. A little.

Hwoarang and Lars fight sometimes but they always 'make friends again' afterwards because Alisa just glares and glares and glares at the Swede until he does. Jin's found that Dragunov's quite the accomplished singer, even though he otherwise remains silent. Hwoarang and Jin are both very thankful that the group was able to take them through Russia and the Ukraine. They're now in Poland – after 'the middle of the country', according to Doctor Bosconovitch. The days pass so quickly now, and they're so carefree.

Jin wonders how far they have to go before they find the next key. It's been a while since they've met any resistance – this has so far literally just been a quiet journey since True Ogre. He feels like they don't know what they're doing, where they're going – he feels like they've lost sight of their purpose. Or at least, Hwoarang has. He's too busy laughing, smiling, and enjoying having… 'time off'. But he himself – he remembers Jinrei's words, he remembers it all as clear as day, and it frustrates him so much that he doesn't know where else to go, or what else to do.

They're in a village called Pila, near the north-east, when Lars stops everyone and their steeds. He looks to the river, and then to the west. Everyone else soon stops too, and Jin looks at him, noting a look of longing and thought. Lars soon looks up and around the place – it's a lush, green area, and they're on a small, quiet road. There's a house a several metres behind them, with the owner grabbing some tomatoes from his front yard. It is Alisa who presses, "Lars, are you well?"

Lars nods a little, looking to the group again, "If I continue north and get a boat, I'll be able to go home."

Something in Jin snaps. He can't help it – all of his thinking, and now this happens, "So you led us wandering through half of Europe to get closer to Sweden?"

Lars' eyebrows furrow. He shifts his position and folds his arms, looking at his feet, "Well, not _intentionally!_ Besides," he looks at Jin, partially amused at the tone in his voice from before, "You never had to follow us – none of you had to follow me. I told you from the start that we were wanders – and this is where we've wandered," he looks to the others, "I'm going home. Just for a while. You're welcome to join me."

Alisa chimes, taking several steps forward as the doctors, Jack, Jane and Dragunov pass her to follow like loyal beasts, "You've not returned to Sweden in years. Are you ready to brave your past now?" A small nod, and he's turning to go talk to the man with the house, "But Lars, what made you change? You were so frightened to go back to Sweden before."

Lars stops and thinks, pulling his pack closer to his body. He's actually unsure. It feels like the answer's on the tip of his tongue, desperate to get out – but the uncertainty pins it down.

But then Jane speaks, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, "I think I know, Lars," when he looks to her, she turns and points to the two Asians, ignoring how their faces change into one of surprise, "Because you saw yourself in them, and wanted to be what they became."

Hwoarang quirks an eyebrow. Jin remains stoic.

He smiles, "I guess so. Hwoarang overcame his past in Seongnam. Jin is not afraid to find the answers he's desperately sought since his youth. I guess you two inspired me to try and fix my own problems," he straightens up and points in a slight north-easterly direction, "If you keep going that way, you'll come to a place called Szczecin. Its three towns that way, near the water and it's on the border of a country called Germany. Germany's a pretty big 'player' in these parts, so you might find some more answers and help there. The countries keep getting bigger after that – if you can't find anymore keys in Germany, go to France, the next country. Best of luck, yeah?"

Hwoarang smirks a little, "We'll see how it goes. Take care and good luck."

He turns away and starts to walk with his company to the man again before stopping and looking over his left shoulder to Jin, "Hey, Jin – if you really are the Prince of Japan, then surely you know Heihachi Mishima, right?"

Jin nods, seeing Hwoarang shift out of the corner of his eye, tapping his boot against the ground and petting Baek's mane, "The Emperor? Yes, of course."

Lars grins, almost devilishly with amusement, "Tell him I said hi."

They're walking again; and Jin calls out, confused, "Pardon? What business do you have with him?"

They're nearly out of sight as he shouts back, "Long lost son."

Jin's eyes are wide. He can't form a reply, and his mouth is dry. If Lars is a long lost son of Heihachi, then that means they're related. That means Lars is his uncle – and he had no idea. What on earth was Heihachi doing all the way in _Sweden, _then? Or what was his mother doing in Japan? None of it made sense – maybe it was a business trip? A one night stand? Better yet, why did Lars say nothing until now –

Hwoarang seems to be just as surprised, but it's far more contained as his voice is calm, "The reason he ran away."

Jin looks to the Korean, "Hmm?"

"That must've been the reason he ran away," Hwoarang surmises, glancing at Jin, "The reason he left home and the reason he's got those scars. He must've tried to get to Japan and then given up or reconsidered it. He must've become afraid of what he'd find – certainly not a good Daddy that'd welcome his kid with open arms. Or he must've realised that there's no point anyhow because before an _Emperor, _he can just deny it and then his word is like God's law, or something.

"So he wandered for a few years between Sweden and Japan, wondering what the fuck to do. Go home and think, or go to Japan and understand. He found a couple of misfits who were in similar boats and ended up wandering around anywhere and everywhere trying to think and make up his own mind. They became friends, had a few laughs, met more strangers and started to think really hard," he looked up to the sunlight and then over his shoulder, heading in that north-easterly direction, "And now he's chosen his path."

Jin frowns a little and starts to follow Hwoarang's steps, "He has chosen ignorance?"

He shrugs, pulls his jacket closer to his body and grins a little, "Sometimes its better not to know."

_Not for me, _the Japanese youth thinks, trying to speed up his walking, a hand still on Flare's reins, _Not for me._

* * *

They pass Walcz and Stargard-Szczecinski with no issue – they've since mounted their horses and are tired. Jin longs for a bath. Hwoarang wants booze. Both need sleep, and they unanimously decide through stifled yawns that when they get to Szczecin, they will stop and rest there, perhaps for a day or two. It's been a long time since they actually slept in a _bed _as opposed to a tent, and the change's most definitely welcome.

The sun's long since abandoned them, so they stick to the dirt road that they're on with the small light they have from the moon. But when they spot shadowy figures up ahead, they force their steeds to stop. They grab their weapons and wait, uncertain of who or what they've come across – but they can sense the unease in their beasts. The figures are coming closer – now with torches – and then they stop a few metres before them.

There's six of them. Two have dark skin, something that they've not seen before. There's also two men of medium build – one with hair the colour of snow, and another with hair the colour of the sun, but rising up tall. The fifth man is wide and round, and the final man is bald and incredibly tall, standing in the middle of them all and glaring at the two foreigners with large eyes. All have tribal clothing.

The large man is holding a spiked club. He growls to his pack, "Look what we have here, boys."

The taller of the two dark-skinned men speaks, "Marduk, I'm glad you led us down this path."

The blond cracks his knuckles and darts forward to Hwoarang, gruffly shouting, "Easy pickings!"

Hwoarang moves Baek aside, watching the man trip over his own feet. He places the golden dao at the man's throat, almost hoping that he falls on it – instead, he watches as the man stops cold, somehow stable. He speaks with a dark grin and in an almost taunting manner – he's been waiting for some action, "You sure about that?"

The leader, Marduk, grits his teeth, "Paul, come back here and stand beside the others!" As Paul obeys and stands beside the round man, Marduk takes two large steps forward, bringing the torchlight closer to them, "You've wandered into our territory – give us all of your gold!" The man with the white hair starts chuckling as Marduk raises his spiked club to eye level, "Or else."

Hwoarang moves to respond – he's dealt with men like this before from his pirate days – but then he hears a sound to his left, and it's not one he expects. It's a laugh – a noticeably deep laugh. It's Jin. _Jin_ is laughing at Marduk's threat – something the barbarian doesn't take nicely to – but it makes Hwoarang smile. Jin speaks, and when he does, the Korean thinks for a moment that he can hear himself in his voice, his attitude, his confidence, "Do you honestly expect us to submit to your pathetic threats?"

Marduk is seemingly emotionless, "Raven, Bruce – go!"

The two dark men dash forward. One is incredibly fast, holding small weapons that both seem to recognise from the east – kunai. The other has a curved weapon – Jin mutters 'sickle' under his breath – and it is this man that lunges at him. It is this man that moves to drive the sickle deep into the heart of Flare, but Jin makes the horse raise onto its back legs, driving Bruce further back because of the flailing front legs.

Jin immediately dismounts and rushes forward. He doesn't want his horse harmed in this in any way – and the sickle comes down on him, but his katana is blocking it. Jin pushes it away and takes a slice at Bruce's exposed stomach – he doesn't miss. Bruce takes a few steps back, and with a roar, comes at him again with the sickle – but there is a pain to Jin's left leg, at the side – Bruce has kicked him there. The distraction is enough to have the sickle scrape against his shoulder armour.

Hwoarang is still on Baek, weaving him uncertainly around the one known as Raven. Raven is fast, faster than he imagined – he's already struck Baek a few times around the shoulders, but nothing major. He takes a quick jab at the man with his dao, but it misses because his hand is sweaty. This miss costs him, though, because Raven takes a stab at one of his feet. The kunai is lodged in the leather and beyond, and Hwoarang hisses, quickly hopping off his horse and pulling out the weapon.

He ignores the pain, though, and keeps fighting, matching Raven blow for blow. Raven hacks at a part of his clothes – he inwardly frowns a little because Hwoarang likes the garments that Jinrei gave him – and then he leans back as the two kunai go soaring over his head. Keeping with the momentum, he places his hands on the ground and propels the rest of his body into the air with his good foot leading – and he feels it collide harshly with Raven's chin. By the time he's upright again, Raven lands head first in the ground with a pained yelp, and then there's nothing.

Jin is being matched blow for blow by Bruce – and then over the clanging of metal, he hears Marduk growl, "Bob," the wide man stirs, spinning a long halberd in his hands, and he watches his leader point directly at Jin, "There." And then Marduk turns to the other two and points to the redhead, "Paul, Bryan – there."

The Japanese youth sidesteps as Bob charges towards him, and he thinks as he's gradually being pushed back and down the road, _This is unfair! _But he doesn't let them see his annoyance anyway, ducking below their medium and high-level strikes. He hacks at their legs in one fluid motion, watching as blood drips down the wounds – but they are resilient, and despite the pain he can see on their faces, they keep coming at him. As long as he is aware, he'll be alright.

Hwoarang is not faring as well. The blow to his foot has really slowed him down, so he's trying to go all out on the offensive to keep Paul and Bryan away. He's unable to hold off the pair of them at the same time, though – every time he goes to fend off Bryan, who is carrying two morning stars, Paul sweeps his legs out from underneath him, digs an elbow into his ribcage and then, with a palm strike, sends him a few metres across the ground.

He struggles to stand because he can still feel the sting of the attacks – and then Bryan's over him. He laughs – a long, darkly-amused laugh that he's never heard before – and then he raises both morning stars, ready to bring them down onto his head. The Korean struggles to find the strength to even move – both men were agile fighters and he just couldn't keep up like this and –

An axe. Out of nowhere.

The weapon lodges itself into Bryan's shoulder. The man hisses in pain and turns, pulling it out and throwing it back where it came – into the depths of darkness. The randomness of the attack makes every battle stop, and every pair of eyes look around for any sign of movement. They see nothing, but they hear all. They hear laboured breathing, and then a loud shout –

A woman. A warrior.

Her hair's tied back into two plaits and she's wearing fur. She has one larger axe in one hand, and a dagger in the other. Bryan is the closest to her, and they're fighting like nothing anybody has seen before. It is vicious, savage – untamed, even. She's fast, too – Bryan's struggling, and soon enough, the axe comes down on one of his arms. He screams, takes several steps back and just looks in horror, eyes filled with pure rage. He charges again, too obsessed with killing her – but she gets him first, his head flying off.

There's silence. Hwoarang looks. She looks back. They both dash towards Paul. His legs are shaking as they approach, the man partially limping; and after briefly considering his options, he runs away. He just runs away, because he values his life far too much to let it end here. When they realise this, Hwoarang makes a beeline towards Jin's two opponents, and the woman continues towards Marduk.

"How dare you murder one of my men!" Marduk hisses, swinging his great club through the air.

The woman jumps back, and he can see a small smirk on her face, "It wasn't a fair fight."

He brings it down vertically this time, and she evades it with ease, stabbing him in the thigh temporarily and rolling away thereafter. She's back on her feet again, running around behind the man. She moves to cut him in the back, but he turns surprisingly quickly – and he only _just_ misses her head. This merely angers him further, and it amuses her all the more.

The fight seems to have simmered down elsewhere. Jin, Hwoarang, Bruce and Bob are watching the girl and Marduk. She feints another attack, causing Marduk to try and hit her again. She side steps the strike and notes how he's unable to pull the club from the ground at the moment, for whatever reason. She jumps up onto it, quickly climbs up and then lands on his shoulders, throwing him off balance, and they land on the ground with her blade up against his throat.

He's scared as she says, "Leave these travellers alone. Now you get out of my sight, understood?"

He nods, and the blade leaves his throat. She gets up. Marduk stands and looks to his two remaining men, instructing Bob to pick up Raven before hightailing it out of the area. As they leave, the light does too – or so they thought.

"Jin," Hwoarang rushes, shocked, "Your pocket!"

He looks down and gasps, noticing the familiar glow – and both their heads turn to their saviour, who is bringing their horses back to them. Its as she turns to pat them do they see the glow in her brown back pack. Once she turns to them both, she sees the key outline and its glow in Jin's pocket, and there's a sound that bubbles up from her throat that's a cross between surprise and joy.

She looks down for a moment before getting on a third horse, one that they had not notice behind her – it is white. She looks to them both and motions for them to do the same, "You both must be tired, and your foot must be killing you. Szczecin is not far, an hour's more ride. There you'll find food and shelter, and there you will be able to rest. I will take you there."

Jin settles in the saddle and starts to ride, following the woman, "Your name, miss?"

"Julia Chang."

Hwoarang follows quietly.


	19. XVIX

Author's Note: This was supposed to be longer, but I don't really have the strength to make it longer. I'll explain in the future to those who aren't aware of a particular situation already. Enjoy anyhow, I do like the latter segment…!

* * *

_**XVIX.**_

* * *

When they arrive at the inn, they give their steeds to the caretaker and watch them as they leave for the stables. They then adjust their backpacks and enter the inn itself, trying to stifle yawns or the random chatty comment – now's not the time for it. Jin quietly feels like poking fun at how Hwoarang's limping, but he decides it is best not to unless he wants the man's scorn once more.

Julia pulls her hair to the side and rubs the back of her neck, sore and tired. She glances at the two men, who appear to be equally as drained as they lean against a wall, before speaking to the lady at the desk. She organises it so that they are together, but she is alone. Once everything is done, she informs them and goes on her way, promising to see them in the morning.

They are both so tired that they don't bother changing when they get into their room. They just drop their things on the side of their beds, rub their aching faces, collapse and drift off into a deep sleep.

* * *

The next day, Julia enters loudly, wishing them good morning in a bellowing voice. Hwoarang falls off the bed from sheer surprise, and Jin just sits up and rubs his temples. She laughs at the first man's reaction before pulling up a chair opposite them, asking, "Did you both sleep well?"

"As well as we could," Jin replies, trying to tame his growing headache, "I must inquire about something, Miss Chang. A portion of your backpack was glowing last night…" he can see she wants to interrupt, but he doesn't let it happen, "By chance are you carrying a diamond key?"

Julia smiles and nods, "To Armageddon."

"Please," he stands and begins crossing the room, though his sight is still a little fuzzy, "Give it to me."

Furrowing her eyebrows and annoyed, Julia stands and takes a step back. She straightens up and hisses, withdrawing a buffalo knife she keeps in her boot, "Come near me again and I will cutyou. I am _not_ giving you this key. It is too dear."

"I don't think you understand what that key, with others, will unleash," Jin stated calmly, remaining rooted in place.

"Azazel," she replies curtly, smirking as the shock sets in on his face.

Hwoarang's sitting on his bed now, inspecting the kunai wound on his foot as he speaks, "See, Jin? She's not all brawn. There's clearly a big brain in there," he looks to Julia, "So Jinrei told you too or? Wait, he said that he'd been studying all sorts of cultures and that they all told a similar story and lead to Azazel. Your people must be one of 'em then, right?"

Julia nods, "Yes. The stories of this beast run deep in Native American legend. I walked all along my lands just to find this key, and then travelled across the sea to try and locate more," she looks to Jin, her voice shifting in its tone temporarily, "It was my Mother's last wish that I somehow get this to stop before everything ends. I will honour that wish."

"I have my own duty to fulfil," Jin replies curtly taking a small step backwards to give her more room, "Perhaps you would like to accompany us? A good man told us to try looking through the country known as Germany and beyond. We are better as three rather than two and one."

Julia is sceptical. She just met these men, and one of them even asked for the item she intends to defend to her death if she fails to gather them all. However, the pair have an unspecified amount of keys – this is her best chance to accomplish Michelle's wish. She cannot let them get away that easily, nor can she allow the key she has to simply fall into their laps. At least, not without a proper analysis of sorts.

"Fine," she says, putting her buffalo knife away, "You are bordering Germany anyway, so get up and let's go. We have no time to lose. Let's get moving."

* * *

It's been eight days days. They don't know how far they come. They've passed numerous farms and have just decided to try and find the capital.

Julia had asked an elderly farmer two days earlier where the capital was and how far away it was. The man simply pointed in a south-westerly direction, wearing a well-meaning, crooked smile. She merely thanked him and continued to ride with Jin and Hwoarang. Now, though, she's wishing that she pushed for an answer to the _other _half of her question. She doesn't know these lands – she _definitely _knows that the other two haven't got a clue because they look so _different _– and their quiet talking makes her a little uncomfortable.

"I'm just saying," Hwoarang remarks, pointing at a particular cloud, "It looks like a –"

"I don't._ Want. _To know, Hwoarang," Jin seethes as he clutches the reins tightly, rolling his eyes.

Julia shakes her head and focuses on the road ahead. The scenery almost always looks the same nowadays, and its beginning to grate on her control. However, there _is _a new sight several metres ahead. Its two people on one horse, and from this distance, she can only see colours due to her bad eyes. So she asks, "Do you two see that? Up ahead?"

Hwoarang squints and then brightens, "Yeah, I see 'em! Two blondes! _Heeey!_"

His shout falls on deaf ears for a few moments before the one with the longer hair turns her head over her shoulder and looks at the trio. Almost excitedly, she taps the person in front of her on the shoulder and points, causing them to stop. Taking this as a good sign, the three speed towards them until they are right before them.

Once they stop, the one with the shorter hair asks, "Is something the matter? Can we help you?"

Jin places a hand on his chest, "We are trying to find the capital of this country. Can you help us?"

The other blonde interrupts, flipping her long hair to the side. Her expression is a cross between haughty and frustrated, because they've been travelling for so long and she did not think that she'd run away so far, "Excuse me but I am by _far _the priority! I need to return to my home immediately! Ooh, my Father must be worried sick."

The other blonde glances at her, "Lili, these people took the time to approach us, so we can take the time to answer…" Blue eyes are redirected to the Japanese youth, and points behind him, "Berlin is a few days ride that way, sir. To be honest, I'm surprised you missed it. The nearest city is now Frankfurt, which is sort of halfway through the country itself and is a few hours away. We're heading to Paris in the country beyond Germany."

Jin looks to Julia thoughtfully, who then glances to Hwoarang. None of the keys have reacted to anything in the region so far, and if they're roughly halfway through then they may as well follow these people. It's the latter of the trio that pipes up with a slight grin, "Mind if we tag along? We've got no idea where we're going, but you seem to have a clue."

"What are you, then? Wanderers?"

"You can call us that."

A shrug, and then the person places a hand on the woman in the white dress, "This is Lili, a daughter of an upper class man in France. My name is Leo. I found her wandering the place on accident a few days ago and have promised to help her return to her Father," she smiles at her, "Silly thing got lost."

"I was running _away!_" Lili hisses, glaring daggers at the slightly shorter woman.

Jin smiles a little, "Let's go and take you home, then."

* * *

Empress Xiaoyu has done plenty of investigating over the past few months. She and Panda have discovered so much about the palace – so many dirty secrets that had been kept from view, hidden behind closed doors and left well alone. She just didn't think that _this _one would hurt her so badly. She didn't think that _this _one would make her blood boil to the point where she personally contemplates seeking revenge with her own two hands.

She and Panda found the person who killed her beloved Grandpa. In the initial stages of the investigation, she thought it might've been something supernatural, seeing as that odd purple demon dropped in not long before Jin and Hwoarang were brought to the palace. Lei seemed to think that it was something else, maybe a human, because the handiwork was too… normal. A slit throat – surely the purple demon would've been capable of doing more.

It's only by accident that she heard him speaking to one of his family members. He'd been standing out the front at the palace's steps, talking to a cousin. She'd been watching from her window in complete darkness, but the voice was unmistakeable, just like her anger. Panda would've growled, but she kept silent as per the youth's muttered request.

Today, she has brought Feng Wei to his knees.

On her throne, she glares down at the man, who's been bound and controlled by both Lei and Panda. There's an entourage of people lining the back wall – servants, guests, soldiers, they're all watching with hatred and malice in their eyes as Xiaoyu vehemently spits, "What do you have to say for yourself? I heard you last night."

He merely glares at her, eyes cold and calculating; nothing like she remembers growing up.

She stands and crosses the room swiftly, part of her robes sweeping along the floor behind her, "You served Emperor Jinrei faithfully for many years. Never once did you question any of his actions, never once did you leave his side… But it was nothing but blind loyalty in the hopes of acquiring the crown yourself!" She slaps him and thereafter retracts her shaking hand for a few moments, "You waited until he was old, weak and frail – until he was alone and guarded by none but yourself!" Her darts out once more. Xiaoyu grips his throat, her fingernails digging into his thick skin, "And I am your _next _'victim', am I?"

Feng merely glares at her, eyes wide, "You are not _fit _to be ruler."

Just like that, the simple statement overwhelms her, because deep in her heart and mind she feels she is unworthy. With a large shout, she slaps him again and throws him backwards, causing Lei and Panda to stumble. Xiaoyu then shrieks, beside herself, "Execute him! I will not allow such a traitor to walk through my halls, live in my kingdom and desecrate everything my family has worked hard for!"

Without a word, Lei, Panda and the soldiers leave, dragging Feng along with them.

It's only when she is alone again in the room does she sit back down in the throne and look at her hands. It's only when she is alone again does the full realisation of what she has just done dawn on her – not only did she avenge her Grandfather, she murdered a man. And she feels sick.


	20. XX

_**XX.**_

* * *

There's the sound of paper flying through the air, and Asuka watches as a single sheet slides in between the bars of her prison cell. Confused, she reaches and picks it up, turning it so that the writing side's facing up at her. She begins to read, and is shocked to find that it is addressed to her, from the person she wants to hear from the most.

She sits up for a moment and looks around, but there's no one there. Nothing but a faint, purple mist, and she wonders if a woman recently walked by or of she'd been seeing things. There's literally no one could've passed it to her, or who could've tossed it through the metal bars. She sits back against the wall and sighs, going over it. In the distance, she hears a long howl.

_Asuka,_

_This is Jin. Should you receive this letter, then please respond to it. Please, stay safe and stay well._

_A lot of time has passed since I sent you the letter from South Korea. I have journeyed into China and met a lovely girl named Ling Xiaoyu – she is of royal blood, you see, and now rules the country. It is unfortunate that her grandfather, Emperor Jinrei, passed on so soon after our meeting. But as of now… I am still going through China, hoping to get into Europe to locate more of these keys._

_The Emperor informed us that there were six of these keys, Asuka, and that together, they would unleash Armageddon in the form of a beast named Azazel. The Emperor said that this beast has appeared in every culture – surely therefore it is true? Surely therefore he is real? Surely therefore… myself and Hwoarang must stop it before the end swallows us._

_Hwoarang says 'hi', by the way. He grins and gives a small, two-fingered salute, and he asked me to specifically write it down. I really think you would enjoy his company, Asuka. He is very free-spirited, and less hostile nowadays. He keeps asking me what you look like and he asks for me to describe him to you, but I don't think that is necessary. I am sure that one day you will both meet._

_We are currently going towards Europe as I said… but we are still passing through China. It is such a lovely place, Asuka. Big, rolling hills. Friendly people. I like it here. If I were not passing through on a mission, I would go and help that family build their house, or help teach that village how to fight. As it is, I have a duty to uphold and a task to continue, regardless of the costs. It must be met._

_I've been wondering why you do not write back. It has been a long while since my first letter, and I would have hoped that you would respond immediately to at least help out. I do not know what Heihachi and his forces are doing, nor if they are still mobilised. I thought you would know, but you have not replied. Please be okay. I don't want you to be in any sort of trouble, or worse, dead. I won't be home for a long time – I need to get these keys and stop this monstrosity before it destroys the world and gives us nothing to fight for._

_I cannot imagine a world where there is no tomorrow._

Asuka sighs, folds the note and tucks it into her pocket, wishing she had a pen. She cannot imagine such a world either.

* * *

Hwoarang monitors the four in silence. Leo and Lili are understandably still closer to each other than the others, but Leo's constantly trying to maintain an open dialogue with Jin, Julia and himself. He's learnt a lot about women just by watching them and Julia, if he's honest. Most of the times his goals were just to get them in bed and make them work, but he never really stood back and observed the workings of their mind.

If Jin's face is anything to go by, it's definitely confusing. He gave up a few days ago on trying to understand them, but Jin's still having a go. From what he's noticed, Lili is the ultimate princess, entirely demanding and she's not afraid to show it. Leo's almost more gentlemanlike than ladylike, and it's both jarring and confusing – but she's a bit easier to understand. Julia's entirely intellectual, and while that's never been one of Hwoarang's strong points, it can get kinda annoying.

"We're in France now," the Korean suddenly says, "Right?"

Lili turns her head and looks to him, tucking some of her long, blonde hair behind her ear, "Yes, we are. Why do you ask?"

"Because the air feels a lot more pompous than before."

She furrows her eyebrows, crosses her arms and hisses, "How dare you!"

He grins, and it grows when he finds that both Jin and Julia are chuckling at his sentiment. Leo's face is entirely blank as she steers the horse through a quiet town. It's weird, coming from Korea all the way to Europe and watching the houses change… Everything's changed, really. All the structures of buildings are vastly different, let alone the faces of the people. He's seen so many blue eyes lately, and it's sorta weird. He feels out of place. He doesn't mind, but it can get uncomfortable at times when he hears a murmur or two that he doesn't understand.

Leo speaks to Lili, "Could you direct me where to go, please? We're so close to taking you home –"

"—and dumping your sorry ass," Hwoarang finishes, earning another glare from 'her majesty'.

Jin interjects before Lili can go on some kind of French tirade, "Could you be more respectful, perhaps?"

He can't really help it – it's not that he _loathes _her but he definitely finds her annoying. Besides, he's trying to be funny and make Julia and Jin grin again. He likes it when they grin, it makes him feel like he's their friends instead of one's accomplice and another's… well he doesn't even know what he is to Julia. Not yet, anyway. Either way, he fakes a dejected expression, "Fine."

So they follow Leo's lead, through Lili, for a few hours until they come to a large mansion. It is tall and wide, prim and proper, and a mixed look of apprehension and joy fills Lili's face. She's happy to be home, but at the same time, she doesn't want to be here. Hwoarang can't help but feel a little bad – he understands that feeling entirely. It's how he felt when he went back to Seongnam – scared but glad. It's how he felt when he wandered the seas – free but caged.

"Lili," he finally says as she gets off the horse with Leo's assistance.

She glares at him, "What do you want now?"

"Running away never gives you answers or freedom. Communication does."

A thoughtful expression crosses her visage before all bitterness seems to vanish. She does a small curtesy in thanks before turning to her home, wondering what awaits for her on the other side. A lecture or an embrace? Either way… She clasps Leo's arm before she can get away, "Would you please walk with me to the door?"

Leo smiles and nods and gives the other three a quick wave goodbye.

Hwoarang, Jin and Julia begin to ride away, following the large path down the town and towards the next. Unlike the other places they've visited so far, France seems to have a lot of its towns closer together – orrr they just talk a lot more now than they used to and the time goes by faster.

The hours go by faster than they remember. Hwoarang's pleased by this, as he's never been big on long silences. The more he travels, though, the more his stomach feels like its tying itself in knots. He can't explain why. Every so often, he asks Jin if there's been any reactions to the keys, to which he curtly shakes his head and offers a sympathetic smile.

Julia chimes, "It must be far away."

"What is?" he asks.

"The last key."

"Oh. Yeah. That."

He's gotta remember that he's gotta keep going – that he's gotta keep doing this for the greater good. He might be reluctant and he might not really wanna do it, but he's gotta try. It's the right thing to do… right? _Wait, why am I askin' myself that? Of course it's the right thing to do… Baek would've._

A shadow looms over the trio. The horses become skittish, and they stop. Hwoarang looks around and grabs his dao, his fingers digging into the metal as he pulls it from its sheath. The air is cold and the mood continues to drop further. They're a little way out of another town, and there's nothing but flat grass. The Korean sucks in a breath and looks to Jin and Julia, who are in a similar state of uncertainty.

A being descends from the sky and lands on the ground.

Jinrei's voice rings through Hwoarang's head, _The last is a scaly, purple man with red eyes and numerous scars. He also has a tail and wings. _

"S-speak your name!" the prince shouts, stumbling over his words as he points his katana at the creature.

It can't be. It really can't be. It's in the face.

It can't be, he doesn't _want _it to be, _not again, n-not after Mother –_

The man merely grins, one side of his mouth higher than the other as he does so. He extends his arms and approaches the three, but his red eyes are solely focused on the youth who's almost completely jumped out of his skin merely due to the sight of him, "You know who I am, Jin," and then his fangs show, "You know _exactly _who I am."

He lunges forth, but Hwoarang intercepts, cutting his side. The attack deters the beast, but not enough to make him crumple forward. He stands tall and moves a few feet away, carefully watching the three young warriors. His eyes drift over one another – first the redhead, then the girl, and finally _him,_ "The boy, so alone, with a freezing, bitter heart. The woman, out to prove herself and show that she will not lie down. And the son, fearing the truth of the matter and what he could become."

He knows. Oh, he knows.

A small axe goes flying across and sinks into the beast's arm. He doesn't flinch, even as he rips it out and throws the weapon back at Julia, causing all three to move and make sure nobody gets hit. He chuckles, "You'll not have such an easy time taking me down, fools," he gestures to his arm, which isn't all that wounded by the strike. Just a cut, and even though it had been nestled into his arm, it is not that deep, "As you can see, your attacks so far are literally just leaving scratches on me… Is that the best you can do?"

Hwoarang dashes forward again, with Baek and with the intention of stabbing, yet as he approaches, the beast merely leaps into the air and stays there, suspended. Energy gathers around the red eye at his forehead, and then he fires, a laser carving through the earth. Hwoarang manoeuvres out of the way, well out of the way until the laser fizzles out.

Julia's next, and she throws another axe and watches as it digs into his back. He reaches around and rips it out, hurling it to the ground thereafter as though it were an annoying mosquito. He turns to face Jin next, who is expected by everybody to attack; yet he does not. Instead, he sits there, on his steed, holding the katana at the creature. He is shaking.

"'Not again', hmm?" he questions, watching as Jin's eye twitches, "Life isn't fair; is it, son?"

Everything is too fast, then. The wings, the rush of air, everything. One man is knocked off his horse, and the other is stabbed in the side. The woman is punched across the face, and then there's energy, so much energy, and so much life is being drained from every human near him. They try to attack more so, but it does not feel like they have the strength.

For every slash they attempt, he knocks them back down into the dirt, treads on them, kicks them, laughs at them. For every failed counter attack, he crushes a limb, or their throats for temporary amusement, before moving onto the next one, and the person after that. Even so, he cannot sense the keys, as there are too many other emotions interrupting the link.

"The warriors of Jinrei?" he scoffs, stretching his wings, blotting out the sunlight, "You are _children_."

"Father… Kazuya…" Jin starts, lifting his head and rubbing his face, "What has happened to you?"

Kazuya merely smirks, and the scales on his body vaguely glisten, "I woke."

With another swift strike to each, to all, the ground, him, her, him, they – there is darkness. Nothing but darkness once again.

And even without their emotions nattering in his mind, in the atmosphere, in the energy of the place – he could not find the keys. So, they mustn't have them in the first place. No matter.

He flies away, far away, and resumes his search for his beastly lord's freedom.


	21. XXI

Author's Note: So there's like nine chapters left. Going to try harder to get them done. Enjoy this one for now.

* * *

_**XXI.**_

* * *

_Your voice retains the same melody._

He wanders through the chilly, wide forest, alone and hopeful.

He follows the sound of her voice as though it's the red string out of the labyrinth. Dying leaves litter the pathway in which he treads, until he's out of the ensnarement of the branches and in an open, green field. Behind him is a tall, stone structure, a lookout without any guards.

Jin spots the figure in the distance, below the only tree that retains any leaves. He walks off the path and straight to her, a small smile gracing his lips. But as he approaches her, everything behind warps. He doesn't notice until it spreads to the corners of his eyes, where he sees the grass becoming purple, the branches becoming black, the sun disappearing, and the sounds are of his nightmares.

By the time he reaches Jun, they are alone on the small island of grass, beneath the tree. Jun pays no mind to the situation around her, simply tending to the flowers beneath the tree with a quiet joy. A smile tugs at his mouth, begging to burst through to the surface. He surrenders, just as he surrenders his mind to the sight before him, because it is what he has wanted again for so long, "Mother."

Jun's smile grows slightly as she continues to pick the flowers. Soon enough, she begins to assort them into various colours. The warmer reds, oranges and yellows all stay together in one hand, and the blues in purples are in the other. She looks at the cooler ones fondly, and Jin takes a seat beside her as she places the warmer coloured flowers in his lap and tends to the others.

She picks at the wilting petals, placing them on the grass before her knees. As she does, they dissolve, they melt, they begin to crawl up her knees and spreading all over her body and she's not even noticed. Jin moves to speak, but something is holding his throat and his vision his bleary. He doesn't understand what is going on, even as the world turns cold and as purple takes over not only his Mother, but the environment.

Everything melts. His focus no longer blurry, Jin looks up and finds Jun – _Unknown_ – leaning over him with the smallest of smirks as the world weighs down on her. She's crushing his throat in her hands, and he struggles for air even as the wolf rises from behind her and laughs at him and his failures. And then, the wolf speaks to him as black claws at the edges of his vision, like sight is burning away, "You call yourself a protector? Your Mother and Father would be ashamed."

"_Ashamed!_" Unknown screeches, tightening her grip to an insane level, "_Ashamed!_"

White streaks cross his vision. Jin squeezes his eyes shut in the hopes of making them go away. He can hear his blood rushing through his ears, and it feels as though every breath is an effort. He hates that he feels like he's failed Jun, Kazuya, and even Asuka. He hates that he feels so weak –

"You are not weak."

There's the soft sound of feathers and silk swinging by his ears. Calm briefly washes over him and he opens his eyes a crack, seeing that the world is as it was, and that there's no more purple. The person before him, however, is neither his Mother nor Unknown. He opens his eyes wider and finds a woman with blonde hair and bright blue eyes staring back. She is dressed entirely in white and –

"I am Angel," she says, and it suits, "And I have a message for you."

Jin wakes.

* * *

"Look how high I am!"

"Can you touch the clouds?"

"...No."

Baek smirks, tightening his grip on his son's legs, "Then you're not very high, are you Hwoarang?"

Hwoarang looks down and glowers at his Father. An idea forms immediately, "Then I guess I'll have to stand on your head."

And so he begins to wriggle out of Baek's grip, his hands woven tightly in the mass of greying brown hair as he moves. Baek does not relent, and his grip remains as tight as ever, much to Hwoarang's annoyance. As he continues trying to get on top of his head, Baek speaks, "You don't have to be any higher than you are now. You can touch the clouds with your will. Always reach for the sky."

Hwoarang looks up at it. He analyses the sky, the clouds, and the sun. He does as Baek stated, his tiny hands reaching upward and trying to grab a piece of its endlessness for himself. He wants to make his Dad proud by actually reaching it, controlling it, taming it in its wonder and ferocity. The oceans of above, much kinder than the one he can actually dig his fingers into.

The clouds become red. They change before him, as does his hands, and he's not on Baek anymore nor a young boy. The ground beneath him moves, flows, bucks and kicks – he's on his ship in the ocean. A memory leads into another memory, and it's not long after Seongnam's been burnt to the ground.

He leans over the side, hands gripping the rails and into the splinters, retching. Pain fills his heart and lungs with the recent memories he seems to have attained. He's weak, pathetic and a shadow of a man – he couldn't even save who was dearest to him. What kind of person does that make him, he wonders.

He is alone on the deck. Everyone else is below. Nobody comes up and asks the new boy, the stranger what is wrong or what his story is. He takes comfort in this, choosing to cry, mourn, howl at the salty winds that whirr around him.

Everything around him changes again, but it is so unfamiliar – it can't be a memory. He is knee high in water, and behind him is a beach that he doesn't recognise. Hwoarang turns his attention back to the sea, his beautiful sea, and breathes in, watching the waves crash and reform in the distance. A seagull screeches somewhere up above him and a white feather drips down into his vision.

He catches it. It shines in his hand and then vanishes, reappearing as a woman with wings in front of him. He furrows his eyebrows, but before he can speak, the woman, an angel, speaks to him, her voice firm and clear, "I have a message for you."

Hwoarang wakes.

* * *

It's a warm night, much like the one she is accustomed to far across the sea, where coyotes roam and plants are uncommon.

Julia is ascending a cliff. She knows it's dangerous, especially with nobody there to help her or anything of the sort, but it is the best way in which she can feel free, empowered and true to herself. It is the best way in which she can let go of unwanted feelings and unpleasant memories.

But now she can only be here in her dreams.

Her arms and legs ache, and the wind is cold, bitter and unforgiving. She climbs and climbs and climbs, the rocks breaking in some places but not others. There is a burning in her chest, for air and from the memories of losing her Mother, Michelle Chang.

Michelle had been a kind woman, very gentle yet stern. She remembers the animal-skinned clothing and the days where she would teach her how to fight, because she believed, and rightly so, that women should be able to defend themselves. That they need not rely on men for every single little thing in their lives.

Nobody knows how she died, still. She remembers her Mother becoming raving mad, deranged, frightened at the smallest jolt – this wasn't the woman that she knew. The healers took her away and tried all they could, but she watched her become more and more unlike herself, until one day, she simply died. It was a horrible experience and memory, but Julia, ever the curious one, still wants to know why.

Her Mother kept saying something about keys, and how she had to find them before Armageddon arrived. It's the last thing she said to her before the healers took her away. She vowed to do so, and now, she was travelling with two people who are as far away from home as she is, trying to gather keys to prevent Armageddon and whatever else would come.

One of her feet slips. She clambers against the rock and just stays there, breathing and shaking. Her eyes become watery as her gaze hardens. She looks up to the sky and hears a howl in the distance. Exhaling, she starts climbing again, trying to leave her doubts about herself and her ability to achieve this task behind. She doesn't really want to do it, especially now that she knows there are others who know and are trying to stop it – but she doesn't want to let her Mother down, either.

There's something shifting in the pit of her stomach as she climbs higher and higher. She ignores it until she is at the very top and throws herself onto the flat ground, heaving, trembling and overall frustrated. Even here she cannot shake her guilt.

A woman's feet appear before her. She jumps up and glares, reaching for an axe – but when she sees and feels the general calm demeanour of the winged-woman, she relaxes, but only a little, "Who are you?"

She smiles, "I am Angel. And I have a message for you."

Julia wakes.

* * *

Nothing has changed.

Morning is approaching on the horizon as the three all glance at each other, having woken simultaneously. They are exactly where Devil Kazuya left them. They quickly check their packs, noticing that nothing's been stolen or taken – they are fortunate. Even bandits left them alone and untouched. They wonder how long they've been unconscious for. Their wounds look dry.

They're all silent for several long moments as they take in their separate dreams. Their throats close at the memories of loves lost, at the fear and the pain that they summoned. Angel's presence in their dreams did confuse them, but they chose not to speak of it – the others would probably find it weird anyway. Who has an intruder in their dreams, right?

They put away their weapons – katana, dao, axes. They stand and begin to wander down the path again, arms folded or stuffed into pockets. They ignore their wounds and the dizziness they feel in their heads, and they ignore the joy they feel when they find their steeds in the next town not so far away. They ignore the concern of the villagers, practically remaining mute for the duration of their stay.

On each of their horses, they finally look at each other. Jin is shaken, his shoulders rolling forward. Hwoarang is hurt, trying to shield his pain from his eyes. Julia's usually stern demeanour has given way to uncertainty. They say nothing and continue to ride, heading further into Europe.

"_You are loved dearly, and you will succeed. Fear not."_


	22. XXII

_**XXII.**_

* * *

They start to lose track of days and nights. They watch as it becomes an unhealthy blur.

People don't speak to them or ask where they're going. They barely speak to each other. It's as though they're fuelled by a different force – for good or for bad. Maybe two or three times they twitch or grumble in their sleep, and they'd be woken up; nobody's said anything to one another about the dreams.

The silence is killing Hwoarang in a way he didn't know was possible. It's not that he's a particularly chatty person, it's just that he's always been in a chatty environment. The silence is unnatural and foreign to him, like the landscapes around him and the air that he breathes. And _God_ he misses the smell of seasalt and the feel of the waves beneath him.

For the first time in... however long, they come across a blond man sitting by the roadside. Hwoarang squints in an attempt to see better, and it's as he approaches he realises that the man is hurt. He's nursing his leg, and there is blood pouring from it. His bag lies beside him, as though he's gone through it to try and find medical supplies. By the looks of the wound, it's serious.

Before he realises what's happening, Julia is ahead of him, leaps off her horse and observes the wound. The man is quite coherent, explaining what's happened and that he'll be okay – he literally only asks if they have any medical supplies that he can borrow for a moment. But Julia's having none of it, and there is more fire in her eyes than there has been in the time they've travelled together. He doesn't know what it is.

Jin speaks with a tone of royalty that makes Hwoarang _shiver_, because it's been so long since he heard it, and because he'd forgotten, "By the looks of that cut, it will need to be cleaned and stitched properly. You need to get to a town as soon as possible. How long have you been out here?"

Julia's already helping the man stand and to her horse. Her face is blank as he speaks. There's something about bandits, and other stuff that Hwoarang doesn't catch because he's much more interested in the scar that's swallowing his arm. He can't help but stare, and if the blond notices, he says nothing.

Once the man's saddled in behind Julia, Hwoarang's vocal cords finally become operation, "What's your name?"

He suddenly looks annoyed at himself for forgetting to introduce himself, and with a quick bow and a hand to his chest, "Steve Fox, at your service."

Hwoarang doesn't speak again until they're in a town. Jin takes much joy in speaking with Steve on an intellectual level – things about stars and junk that he doesn't quite understand. He does learn, though, that Steve's from England and had sought an adventure.

"Why?" Jin asks, "The world is a dangerous place."

Steve doesn't answer, and it surprises him. He's been so open otherwise.

Julia soon smashes the uncomfortable silence by informing them all that they've reached the town. Eyes, so many blue eyes monitor them warily as they help Steve get down, and Julia is asking all the right questions, requesting the right people and equipment. Before long, their horses are taken to the stables and they are dragged into an inn, where a doctor will see Steve.

When the doctor arrives, Julia speaks with him. Hwoarang gravitates near Jin by the window, who is opening his pack and fishing out the keys. They do not glow any stronger than they have in the past few checks, and he wonders how long it will be until there is so much as a _hint_ of the final key.

"The world's wide and large," Hwoarang says, watching as dark eyes meet his, "It could be anywhere."

"Please don't lose faith," the Prince counters, adding carefully thereafter as his eyes fall to the contents of his bag, "Because if your free-minded self loses it, then there is nobody in this group who has any semblance of hope left."

He blinks a few times before gathering a semblance of understanding. Jin and Julia have been so silent because they believe that there's no hope, no chance to find this last key and to save the world from the beast below. It must be because they're thinking logically, and he isn't... he thinks.

He shrugs.

Jin soon closes the bag and heads over towards Julia, Steve and the doctor, asking the learned man cautiously, "Would you please tell us where we are? We have travelled for a very long time and we're not sure where we have ended up."

The man eyes Jin and Hwoarang carefully. It is clear to the pirate that he is considering making some snide remark, given that they are so different in appearance and dress to Julia and Steve, but he wisely retracts whatever he's going to say and responds, "You are in Spain, near the capital of Madrid."

Jin thanks him, seemingly unfazed by the information, but Hwoarang physically feels sick and fights not to throw up.

He's on the other side of the _world_.

He just... went on a quest that's taken him to the other side of the damn world, away from his homeland, his country that is in turmoil against...

"Jin," Hwoarang begins hurriedly, not caring whether the others hear, "What do you think has happened to my homeland?"

He cannot say, for he knows. He knows how strong the army is, how weak Korea was, and how determined and ruthless his Grandfather is. With or without Xiaoyu's forces, he knows the fate of the little peninsula. Jin looks to him, keeping his mouth in a grim, firm line, before looking away and returning his attention to their new blond acquaintance.

Hwoarang makes a small noise of understanding before choosing to sit on the floor. He pulls out the dao and stares at it fondly, wishing he could disappear into the metal, or perhaps not have left at all. He will keep the faith for them all, but surely he is allowed this moment of doubt and of quiet penance. The gold gleams beneath the light from the window.

He wonders if his mates are okay. If, when he goes back - _when_ he goes back – he'll see them again.

He's so wrapped up in his thoughts that he doesn't notice that Jin, Julia and the doctor have left. He is alone in the room with a stranger who is watching him very closely, curiously, hesitantly. He doesn't notice any of that until Steve actually speaks, his strange, yet bold accent resonating through the dull room, "Where in the Far East are you from?"

"Korea," he answers, his voice glimmering with a moment of pride.

"The country caught between China and Japan," he says, as though he's trying to probe Hwoarang for more information, "And Jin too? I don't know much about that area of the world, I'm afraid. There weren't as many books on the Far East as there are for Europe and the Orient."

Hwoarang glances for a moment before choosing to answer, standing and walking to sit beside him, "Jin's from Japan. We met on a battlefield. He was commanding an army to take over my country," and when he furrows his eyebrows and strains to remember other details, he finds that he cannot. That makes him feel worse. Surely it's not been a year or two since this all began...? "Then stuff happened."

"Here in Europe, we are beginning to call Korea the Hermit Kingdom in writing, because you are all so quiet and withdrawn within your own borders," Steve remarks with an odd chuckle, but then his voice calms a little, "Back home in England, I used to read a lot about all sorts of things. Countries, weaponry... My parents... were able to give me a very good education. I find these sort of things interesting, much like the world."

Hwoarang says nothing for a few moments, unsure of what to say or how to respond. Instead, he straightens up in the chair and, with both hands still on the dao, he leans towards Steve to show him, watching as his interest skyrockets, "This is a dao. It was my Father's. Not sure if it's made of solid gold, or at least gold plated, but it's very important to me. These are the swords we use in battle."

"I have read that your country had much proficiency in naval combat."

It's like Steve knows that he is a boy of the water, because before he knows it he is recounting what he knows of a particular Korean naval commander, and how he defeated the Japanese in the worst conditions and with clever tactics, though it cost him his life. Steve responds with some trivia about England in turn. He feels oddly comfortable around the stranger.

But then Hwoarang can't help but ask, "_Why_ are you looking for an adventure?"

The blond frowns, "It is difficult to say. I'm... I'm more or less running away."

When Steve thinks very far back, he remembers a Mother with cold, unfeeling eyes and an even less caring touch. He remembers her sister, his Aunt, and how she is always yelling at him to do the right thing. He remembers a tiny household falling apart when his Grandfather dies, and then there is nothing but fighting and no time for someone who is so small, only two or three years old.

And then he remembers being taken away to a different family, one who looked after him like he's supposed to be... But he can't help but remember the family he'd been born to. Having such memories, such strong memories, even so many years on... it frightens him. Though he'd dare not admit it to any soul. And so instead of being swallowed by the fear, he –

"You can't run away from your problems," Hwoarang snits, withdrawing the dao from Steve's gaze.

"You speak as if you know," he snorts harshly.

Despite himself, he smirks.

Hwoarang, son of Baek Doo San, had chosen to fight. After much hiding, he returned to the place of his undoing and conquered it. Lars, lost son of Heihachi Mishima, had chosen ignorance. After much wandering and wondering, he had chosen the life that he had built for himself. Lili, daughter of wealth, chose to reconcile. After running away, she chose to go back to her family and try and right whatever wrongs happened.

Whether they succeed or not, Hwoarang knows he's learnt much, not only from his own actions but of those who he has met.

"I do know," Hwoarang relents firmly, and he leaves it at that, because Julia enters and he is not willing to share his story more than he has to.

* * *

Forest Law watches as his Emperor paces the kitchens. His Father continues to cut up the meals for the day, but he can feel the fear.

He listens as Heihachi mutters things about his rotten grandson, about his filthy granddaughter, and about the battle that continues to rage. He listens as Heihachi curses the Chinese, curses his own blood for somehow sending aid – _how? Why?_ – and pushing everything to a standstill. People have advised he pulls out, but he is _Heihachi Mishima_, and he will not surrender.

He frowns sympathetically as the man laments the murder of his wife, and possibly his silver-haired servant.

"What are you looking at, boy?" Heihachi suddenly hisses, approaching the young chef with a few swift strides, "You are here to cook, not ogle."

Forest clears his throat, places his knife down and straightens up. He wrings his hands, but there is otherwise no trace of nervousness. Beside him, he can feel his Father stiffen, as though asking him to just stop, "Sir, I can't help but notice that you are stressed. Is there something special I can prepare for you to ease your bothered mind?"

He is thoughtfully regarded for many moments, and he does not expect the Emperor to respond to him, "Surprise me. And once you are done, bring it to my chambers and stay. I need a fresh _ear_."

Forest does just that, preparing a large feast and he brings it in with his Father, who frowns pointedly at him. When Marshall leaves, Forest is alone in the grand room with his Emperor, who eyes the feast, pleased.

He is invited to sit. He does. He asks small questions at first, like if the meal is to his liking. He receives praise, and it feels strange. After all, he and his Father had been captured in China in a raid by Japan many years ago, and brought back. He should hate the man. He is vile. He is like a demon. And yet, he finds that he's happy to receive praise for his services.

"I do not sleep much anymore," Heihachi remarks, picking at his teeth for a moment, "I am deeply troubled. Would you listen?"

And so he does. He listens to a legend that he has not heard of before, but that frightens him deeply. Something about a beast that will end the world. Something about servants to this beast who search for things, things to awaken him so that he can begin Armageddon. There is something more about a purple demon who's visited Heihachi as he sleeps, but he's not sure if the man is rambling about delusions or truths.

He listens as he hears about the takeover of Korea, and how China is fighting to get it back off him. Apparently Emperor Jinrei's been killed sometime in his absence, and his granddaughter, the beautiful Ling Xiaoyu, now rules in his presence. About how Jin _must've_ gone to her for aid, and she's responded in a heartbeat, for she is young and naive. She does not understand.

"She's a stupid child who has no idea what she's doing," Heihachi spits, ripping into more meat, "She's made a very powerful enemy."

Forest has seen Xiaoyu once before and thought her beautiful, but not stupid. Still, he resists the comment, instead nodding and collecting a used, dirty plate to stack on top of another. Heihachi continues to prattle on about the disappearance of his grandson, and how _he knows_ that he's up to something. There is mention of Asuka, who he's not seen for a very long time and assumes – then learns – that she's been locked in the dungeon.

"I've been informed from a rather... _reliable_ source that my grandson is in poor company, somewhere deep in Europe," Heihachi states, wiping his mouth with a cloth, "If I had the power to send my forces over there to destroy him and his company, I would do it in a heartbeat. He is not worthy to succeed me, and neither is his bastard sister."

Forest stands, collecting the plates again. He notes that one has been untouched.

"Give that to the rotting rat in the dungeon," Heihachi hisses, waving at the food, "Thank you for the meal and for listening to me."

Forest smiles and bows deeply, taking the stack of plates to the kitchen. His Father questions him, asks if he's okay, but Forest says he'll be fine. And as he wanders down to the dungeons and indeed finds Asuka Kazama in her cell, thin, frail and ill, he frowns, slips the food into her cell and stays by her side as she eats.

She talks too, babbles like Heihachi did. It must be a Mishima Family thing. And strangely enough, she is saying the same things, the same supernatural things and how _she fears_ them. For the time he has known Asuka, she has feared nothing in her life.

He sees letters in her pocket. Before he can stop himself, he asks, "Are they from Jin? Are they about... his journey?"

She nods, but shies her hip away so that he cannot grab it. He frowns a little, sad that she's come to such a state.

When Jin returns, he won't find strength - to take over or fight against his Grandfather - in his sister like this.

"Listen," Forest suddenly says, his hands closing around the bars, "I'm going to get you out of here. I don't know when, I don't know how, but you can't be in here like this. You're a fighter, and when Jin gets back, he's going to need you. Whether that's for support or to..." his voice lowers, "take down Heihachi I don't know. But please. Stay strong."

He collects the plate and runs back to his Father, begging him to come up with ideas.

Marshall's parental instincts take over, and he makes him stop talking about everything that's come from Heihachi and Asuka's mouth, as though it is diseased. He says it is not their problem, and that they must focus on surviving, "After all, if Heihachi killed the Empress, what chance do we have to live, son?"

Forest decides that the world is unkind.


End file.
